


Safe

by sitabethel



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Deathshipping, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-04
Updated: 2016-02-29
Packaged: 2018-05-11 17:59:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 9
Words: 25,273
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5636464
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sitabethel/pseuds/sitabethel
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryou's attacked on a dark street and an unlikely savior rescues him . . . /Deathshipping/</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

*****Disclaimer: There's a bit of violence in this chapter, and Ryou has a close call with some near-non-con. He gets out of it, but because of the set up and the fact that all his attackers get killed, I wanted to put a trigger-warning up for anyone that's extra sensitive to that kind of scene.**

**Otherwise, most anyone who's reading this has probably read some of my Deathshipping fics before so you guys already know how this is going to end. It's not like I stray from the formula. In fact, I *tried* to make this one a little harsher (that's why he's Mariku and not Kek in this fic), but by chapter two Mariku is freaking drinking tea in Ryou's kitchen and at that point I just tossed my hands in the air, gave up, and let the story write itself, and if ppl think he's ooc ~oh well.**

**Thanks to MooksMookin for betaing this a long time ago, and for Revengineer for giving it a last read through*****

* * *

The city was a dichotomy of indigo shadows and orange street lights. In the distance, traffic hummed down safer streets where the lights kept the rain-slick concrete glowing with an assuring, gleaming yellow color. The side street Ryou walked down, however, had alleyways drenched in darkness, and the only street light Ryou saw in the distance had a shattered bulb.

Ryou hugged himself, pulling the black trench coat around his slender frame. A small switchblade in his coat pocket provided some assurance, but he couldn't stop his maroon colored eyes from searching each shadow.

Ryou noticed someone leaning against the dark lamp post. A cinder of red winked at Ryou from the man's cigarette before he flicked the butt into a puddle, exhaling the last of the smoke into the cloud burdened night sky.

"Hey there." The man smiled, a dark shape blocking the view of a dark sky.

"Hello," Ryou muttered out of politeness, but he lowered his head and diverted his path so that, as he passed the lamppost, he'd have an extra foot of space between him and the stranger.

"Nice night."

Ryou gave a little grunt of acknowledgement, his shoes striking the pavement a little quicker. Once he reached the point where he passed the stranger, the shadow lunged out and grabbed Ryou's wrist.

"What's the hurry? I just want to talk." He laughed, black strands of hair falling into eyes hidden by shadows.

Ryou stayed motionless, neither struggling to pull his hand free nor trying to run. "Please," Ryou said in a very soft, unwavering voice. "Let go of me. I don't want to hurt you."

The man laughed again. With his right hand still clamped around Ryou's wrist, he used his left to grab Ryou's chin and force Ryou's gaze upward. "There's no need to be so mean. I just wanna be friends."

There had been a time where grabbing Ryou or trying to become friends with Ryou would have ended up the same - body in a coma, soul trapped into a Monster World doll, but that time had been years ago.

Ryou already had his left hand around the knife in his pocket. He pulled it out and slid the steel blade across the nerves and veins along the man's wrist. The stranger let go of Ryou's hand in order to hold his own wrist. The small knife only made a thin cut, but it bled wonderfully because of the sliced artery.

Ryou ran, black coat fluttering behind him like a cape, his hair a chaos of loose, white ribbons. His attacker growled and tackled Ryou to the wet cement. Ryou bit his tongue on impact, tasting the tang of metal and wincing at the sharp, sudden pain. His attacker used his good hand to grab a fist full of Ryou's white hair and drag him into a side alley.

Ryou heard laughter. Not his original attacker's. The laughing belong to several new voices.

"Why didn't you assholes help me?"

"Because it was fun watching you get stabbed by a girl."

"Fuck you," Ryou growled at being called a girl. It'd grown old over the years.

A face blackened by shadow leaned forward to examine Ryou. "You're pretty enough to be a girl, anyway."

Ryou's left fingers still wrapped around his switchblade. When the shadowed faced bent down to inspect Ryou's delicate, white features, Ryou slashed out, running the knife-tip down the stranger's face from his forehead, along his nose, and over his cheek.

Their laughter stopped. Ryou felt the himself being slammed face-first into a puddle. A boot stomped down on the his knife hand, someone else held his right hand, while yet another person held down his legs. Everything happened in a blur; Ryou couldn't keep up. He struggled, but they firmly held him down. All he could do was keep his head lifted out of the puddle in order to breathe.

He felt his coat tear from his body, then his shirt, fabric stretching and ripping off of his back. Cold air bit Ryou's toes as his shoes were pulled from his feet. Ryou screamed and fought hard to break free from at least one of the pairs of hands, but he couldn't move.

He saw his own knife wave near his eyes, the steel dull-colored in the dark alley.

"Think you're tough? Think you're a badass? You ain't shit!" The one screaming at him and flashing his own blade was the man whose face Ryou had slashed. Blood ran down the man's skin, making him uglier than before.

A separate pair of hands were working on removing Ryou's pants; however, in order to pull them down his hips, they made the mistake of letting go of Ryou's legs. He kicked out, feeling a solid, reassuring impact of someone's chin against the heel of his foot. Ryou continued to kick out, and then he lunged forward. He knocked the man holding his right wrist to the ground, but before he could wrench free, the man with his knife grabbed Ryou's hair again and pressed the blade beneath Ryou's jawline.

Ryou didn't care. The blade against his skin felt safer than the cold air biting at his bare chest and waist. Ryou held his breath, pulled his pants higher on his hips, and prepared to break free although he knew he would not escape the blade digging into his skin.

But in the second before all that could happen, Ryou noticed a new shadow enter the alley, and with it, the entire night appeared to darken. Spikes like spear-tips crowned the silhouette's head, and a cape danced around its shadowed form.

The man holding Ryou's knife turned to look over his shoulder as the others cursed and threatened the new stranger. A grin - a wide, sinister, joyous grin - greeted them, and when Ryou saw the glint of violet in the silhouette's eyes, his heart felt like it stopped.

"Who the fuck are you?" The man holding Ryou's knife let go of Ryou and pushed the blade towards the silhouette.

The silhouette side-stepped the attack. He raised his own blade into view - a large, thick bowie, the kind one saw in old American movies. He grabbed the attacker's head, plunging his knife into the man's throat and laughing as the man choked to death on blood.

The rest attacked. Ryou noticed there were four others, two with brass knuckles, one with a chain, and the unarmed man who continued to hold his wrist to keep it from bleeding.

One. Two. Three.

That's all it took for the caped silhouette with daggers for hair to dispatch of his armed attackers. Three quick, simple knife strokes and they all fell to the ground with the first body.

Ryou's original attacker tried to run, his elbows sticking out at an awkward angle because he refused to let go of the little cut in his wrist. With a few large strides, the silhouette reached the escapee, snatching his hair, and dragging him back to Ryou just as he had dragged Ryou into the alley.

Ryou stood and shook, trying to get his pants to go back around his waist, but the button had somehow been ripped away in the struggle, and rainwater made the blue jean material heavy. He watched as the man screamed for his life and the silhouette ignored him as he dropped him to the ground and slammed a knee into the man's stomach.

"You're a coward," the shadow growled. "You attack in groups and run when you're alone."

"Stop," Ryou whispered, holding out a trembling hand as if it held the strength to stop the man Ryou only knew of through stories. "Stop. Please. Stop."

His dark, furious, and violet eyes glanced up at Ryou. He shook his head and then sank the knife into the attacker's soft belly, twisting the blade and tugging upward to make sure it tore through the soft, vulnerable flesh.

The man stopped screaming after thirty seconds or so.

Ryou rubbed his hands, as if he was trying to wash them, but all he managed to do was smear the few drops of blood on his skin from his own two attacks. Ryou thought of his knife, about his fingerprints on the handle. He found his torn shirt on the ground and used it to wipe his switchblade clean. He wrapped the weapon up in the material, deciding it would be better to dispose of it later, so the police couldn't match it to the scene or identify Ryou as it's owner.

"What are you doing?" the living shadow asked.

"This knife is mine," Ryou muttered, his maroon eyes wide and his skin covered in gooseflesh. He glanced around, thinking of other evidence. "I … need to get my clothes."

The shadow walked up to Ryou. "They're soaked. Here." He pulled the cloak off of his thick, bronzed shoulders and wrapped it around Ryou's delicate frame.

"No ..." Ryou shook his head, looking around as if he didn't know where he stood. "It's evidence. I need ... I need to get rid of it. We need to hurry before someone calls the police."

"In this neighborhood?" The blonde-haired shadow snorted. "No one's calling the cops tonight, and when they do, this is going to be written off as gang violence."

"You can't be sure. We ... we have to ... clean the area up ..." Ryou started pacing, eyes darting to everything incriminating. He didn't see corpses; he only saw problems that needed solving. His attackers had never been more than faceless shadows to Ryou's mind.

Two brown hands held Ryou in place. "Stop."

"But we have to-"

"Fine," he growled. "I'll clean up, but you stand there. You look worse than the girls did." The former alter ego opened up a covered dumpster and started piling the bodies inside of it, adding Ryou's ruined clothes and shoes as well.

"What do you mean the girls?"

"In the six months I've been back, this is the third time I've stopped something like this from happening. The other two were girls. That's why I know the cops won't give two shits about these corpses. I did them a damn _favor_ by killing those punks." He gave Ryou a wolfen smile, taking a small canister out of his pocket and dousing the liquid within into the dumpster. Then he snatched a zippo lighter from another pocket and tossed it inside the trashbin. Finally, he used his knife to carve a symbol into the metal of the dumpster.

"That fire won't burn everything," Ryou protested, standing in place like one of the Spirit's Monster World figurines - a soul bound up in an inanimate form.

"Doesn't have to. I tagged the bin with a rival gang sign. As long as it mucks up the evidence enough, the cops will write this off just like the others."

Ryou blinked, eyes lost. "What did you do with those girls after you killed their attackers?"

He walked up to Ryou, those violet eyes of his burrowing into Ryou's mind. "What else?" He grinned. "I took them home."

"I don't believe you," Ryou stepped back, flinching.

"Is it because you remember me?"

"Remember you? Not really, Marik and the Spirit were in my head back then. I don't remember much of anything, but I know who you are."

"Is it so hard to believe?" Marik's alter ego asked. "That I protected them? I was created as a defense mechanism, you know."

"An angry, violent one. How many did you kill? To protect them?"

"Including the ones tonight, the body count is at nineteen."

"That's ... wrong ..." Ryou began the sentence as if he was sure of his words, but by the last syllable his pitch lifted as if he asked himself a question.

"Is it? I never thought it was. Marik did for some reason, though." He shrugged. "I don't care. I don't look for trouble, but if I see it - why shouldn't I have some fun? Watching cowards like that hurt people pisses me off." He frowned, crossing his arms over his chest. "Why shouldn't I hurt them back?"

"What if they had guns? What if they shot you instead?"

Marik's former self growled at Ryou's statement. "Then they better kill me with the first shot, or they won't like what I do to them in return."

Ryou shrunk into the dark plum cape around his shoulders. "I want to go home. D-did you really take those girls home?"

The living shadow scooped Ryou up into his broad arms. "I said I did. Where do you live?"

"What are you doing?" Ryou shouted. "Put me down!"

"Your shoes are in the trash with those corpses."

"I don't care. I'll walk."

"You'll catch cold."

"I don't care!"

He set Ryou down with an irritated huff. "The other two didn't mind it." As they walked out of the alley and back onto the street, Ryou noticed a slight blush darkening his companion's cheeks. "They wrapped their arms around my neck and kissed me once I got them home safely."

"They _kissed_ you? Why on earth-?"

"As a _thank you_ for helping them. Apparently _girls_ have better manners."

Ryou squeezed the ripped fabric still wrapped around his knife. "Well, excuse me for not following your mental stereotype of a damsel in distress."

"Actually, I saw what you did to that guy's face - it's a nice change to see someone try to actually _fight for themselves_ for once."

"I wanted to run, but I was trapped."

"You're preaching to the choir. That's why I exist - because Marik wanted to run, but he was trapped. That's why I killed our old man - because Marik wanted to run, but he was trapped. But you're still looking at me as if I'm a monster instead of the guy who just saved your ass - figuratively and literally."

"I..." Ryou lost himself in his thoughts. He glanced at the man walking beside him. He had heard stories, but the person beside him didn't exactly match them. Maybe he _was_ different? He'd been sent to the Shadows, but here he was, walking down a rainy street at night. Perhaps something happened to change him, if only a little. He seemed as violent as ever, but now he seemed to be directing in a defensive rather than offensive manner. Ryou looked to the wet cement below their feet. "You're right. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to be rude. I-it's just ... and everything was a blurr... and I kept thinking _if I had the Ring_ \- but that's wrong. I shouldn't have thought that."

"Why is it wrong?"

Ryou shook his head. "It's wrong to hurt people."

"It's wrong to get hurt in an alley when you're outnumbered."

"I had a bad feeling. I should have crossed the street. I shouldn't have said hello when he greeted me. I should have taken a different way home."

"Stop that." The alter ego pressed a hand on Ryou's shoulder. "This isn't your fault. They were dogs. I put them down. The end."

Ryou continued to shake his head. "But ... I'll have nightmares. Their cut throats, that one guy's screaming ..."

Ryou dropped to his knees. He felt the cold and wet soak into his already shivering skin, but he couldn't stand. Ryou pressed his hands to his eyes to cover the images playing through his mind. He heard Marik's other self whispering in his ears.

"Ryou? What do you see?"

"I ... see ... the Millennium Eye. The Spirit killed Pegasus. He locked me in my soul room, so I wouldn't see, but ever since our first RPG, I could always sneak out. I saw the body ... the blood. I felt so bad. I feel so bad. People are always dying around me."

Ryou felt himself being lifted into the air again. "I didn't mean to trigger you," the other Marik said with a dry voice. "Guess I can't even help people without hurting them."

The air fell silent, profaned only by a single set of footprints. They continued like that for a block and a half before Ryou spoke. "Let me down."

"You're feet are red from the cold."

"It doesn't matter. This is my apartment building."

He set Ryou down and followed him into the building. Ryou walked up to the third flood. It wasn't until he slipped his key into the doorknob that he truly registered the fact that he wore the Darkness' cloak. Ryou's hands dropped to his sides, the key forgotten in the lock. He turned and looked at the blonde standing beside him. "Thank you ... thank you for saving me. Thank you for getting me home safely. Thank you for letting me borrow your cloak."

He grinned wide; the expression looked handsome on his tanned face. "Well, what do you know? You do have manners after all."

"I'm so sorry. I've been horrible all night."

He reached out and touched Ryou's cheek. "I think you're in shock. Maybe you should call one of your friends to come over and stay with you. Yugi or someone."

Ryou grabbed the alter ego's hand. "No, not Yugi. Shit, they already think I'm weak and fragile, this would make it worse. Plus, I don't want them to know … " Ryou looked away, clutching his rag-wrapped knife to his chest. "I don't want anyone to know what happened." He closed his eyes, leaning against the door.

The living shadow leaned forward, petting Ryou's hair, whispering in a low, quiet voice. "They can't hurt you. Never again."

Ryou opened his maroon eyes and looked at Marik's double. "Are you hungry? I really should do something to thank you. I can make you dinner at least."


	2. Chapter 2

 

Something happened in the Shadow Realm after Battle City, something that changed him, but he couldn't remember _what_. For whatever reason, he'd been kicked out - vomited out of the darkness and back into existence. He woke up in the streets, wearing the clothes he'd been banished in. Since Marik had had on those clothes, it should have been impossible. Although, the fact that he had his own body was also impossible, so he supposed the clothing wasn't all that odd considering.

He followed Ryou into the small, one bedroom apartment. Wall scrolls and posters covered the living room walls. Bookshelves stood overflowing with games, DVDs, comics, and figurines. The room was busy, but not messy. It looked... comfortable. He grit his teeth and scowled at boardgames in their bright colored boxes, and the two oversized beanbag chairs in front of the television that looked large enough to curl up and nap on if given the opportunity. Everything in the room was too nice, too _lived in_ , reminding him that he had no true past of his own, just memories from Marik.

In the kitchen, he sat down in a chair, propping his elbows on the table and using his hands to cradle his chin. Ryou busied himself filling a kettle with water for tea.

"Your hands are shaking."

Ryou looked down at them. "A little, I guess. I'll be fine."

"Your feet are still red from walking on the cold sidewalk," he said with almost a bored tone. He remembered, from the time when he and Marik shared a body, how argumentative and stubborn a Bakura could be. He realized it wasn't fair to compare them like that. He wouldn't like it if Ryou compared him to Marik, but Ryou _did_ seem equally stubborn.

Ryou smiled at him. "Still angry that I wouldn't let you carry me like those girls?"

"You let me eventually." He snorted, looking away. "But it's not like I care about something stupid like that."

Maybe he cared a little. He'd never felt casual human contact before. He'd known battle contact - victims lashing out against their death - but not simple touching. When the first girl had wrapped her arms around his neck and hid into his chest as he carried her home, he'd been amazed with the sensation. He was never able to decide what enticed him more - the simple, physical contact, or the fact that she _acknowledged_ his efforts to protect her. Neither of the two girls had stared at him as if he were a monster for killing their attackers. Neither screamed at him, or ran from him. They only stared at him with wide, grateful eyes, knowing that they were _safe_ because of what he'd done.

He growled a little, angry with himself. _Marik_ hadnever thanked him. It shouldn't matter. He shouldn't _care_ , but he did, and that was a new feeling.

He broke out of his thoughts when Ryou tried to pour him a cup of tea. Most of the pale liquid reached the cup, but the rest splashed onto the tabletop because of Ryou's trembling hands. He looked up and glared at the other male wearing his cloak. "Will you change into dry clothes already? Shit, you really _will_ make yourself sick if you stay here like an idiot playing host instead of taking care of yourself."

Ryou sighed, setting down the tea cozy and slipping the purple cape from his shoulders. "I guess I could use a hot shower and my pajamas."

He waved Ryou away. "Get out of here. I won't break anything, or steal anything, or kill anyone while you're gone." He gave Ryou a predatory, toothy grin. "I _can_ control myself when it suits me."

"Hmmm, I wonder about that." Ryou handed him the purple cape.

He reached out for it; their hands brushed together. He almost dropped the material at the unexpected sensation of skin, but managed to pull it towards him instead, growling a little as if the coincidence had been Ryou's fault.

"Sorry." Ryou frowned, turning and disappearing.

A moment later he heard water running from a room over. He wrapped the cape back over his shoulders, noticing that it carried Ryou's smell - subtle, but pleasant. He ripped the fabric away and tossed it over the back of the chair, resting his forehead against the table and trying to stop all the thoughts in his head. The sound of the running shower soothed his mind, and he enjoyed the relative peace from his usual vortex of over analytical self-musings.

When he finally sat up, he tried the tea and realized it'd grown cold. Glancing at the time on the microwave, he frowned. He stood up, wandering out of the kitchen and down the hallway. The hall was a strip of shadow and pitch, but he never had his host-ego's problem with the dark.

The sound of water came from a door to his left. He paused and knocked. "Ryou?" He didn't hear anything, so he shouted louder. "Hey, Ryou!"

A muffled reply was all he heard. It sounded like _just a minute_ , but he wasn't sure, so he sat there, for exactly one minute, before knocking louder and harder on the door. "Quit fucking around."

Another muffled, distressed reply. He scowled at the door as if it had insulted him and pushed it open, popping his head inside the bathroom. He expected steam and shower heat. Fog clung to the mirror, but it was fading. He didn't understand until he saw Ryou, standing beneath a cold stream of water, shivering and crying.

"Go away. I'll be out in a moment," he whispered, sniffling and trying to play off his tears as shower water.

"What the fuck? Are you _trying_ to get sick?" He marched to the shower and turned off the water.

"What are you doing?"

"Being your mother." He grabbed a towel and started drying Ryou.

The pale, slighter male punched at his chest, hands cold from running the shower too long. "Don't touch me. I can dry myself. I've gone quite some time without a mother _thank you very much._ "

Marik's former shadow started laughing, almost dropping the towel because of how his chest shook with chuckles even as Ryou continued to punch him.

"What's so funny?"

"You're punching me is fucking cute! It feels like butterfly wings."

An angry scream exploded from Ryou's mouth. He used his right fist to uppercut and reached one of the former Marik's eyes. He fell back, still laughing, but also holding his eye because it felt bruised.

"Oh god, I'm sorry." Ryou checked the other's eye. "I'm sorry... I'm..." He curled his hands against his chest as more sobs shook his slender, white frame.

He reached for the towel that he'd dropped on the floor and went back to drying Ryou, still laughing at the slighter man's assault. He nudged Ryou towards the counter where a pair of blue-stripped pajamas rested in a perfect square of folded cloth.

Ryou dressed himself, then allowed his companion to lead him back into the kitchen and sit him down. He dried the tears on his pajama sleeve and stared at the former Marik as he refilled the kettle with fresh water. "What are you doing?"

"Making tea. It got cold because you took too long."

"I can do it."

"Yes, you can, but I'm already doing it."

Ryou sniffed, dabbing at his eyes again. "You know, I thought you would be... much worse."

"Because of Battle City?"

"Because of the stories I've heard about Battle City."

"I wasn't me then. I was Marik."

"Then who are you now?"

"I'm... Marik. I guess." He shrugged. "Alters don't always choose names."

Ryou blinked. "You don't want your own name?"

He closed his eyes. "It still feels like I'm Marik... but then _he's_ Marik. I've always thought of myself as Marik, and him as Marik."

"That never gets confusing?"

He shook his head, re-opening his eyes. "No."

"Hmmm..." Ryou gazed off into nothing for a moment. He only half returned when he spoke again. "After a while, I thought of _him_ as Bakura and that never confused me either, so I think I understand."

He poured the tea into Ryou's mug, noticing the frown pointed in his direction. "What? Did I do it wrong?"

"Your eye is turning purple."

"My eyes are always purple."

"No- well, I mean, yes, they're a very nice shade, but I meant the skin around your eye is bruising." Ryou stood up and marched to his freezer, taking out an ice pack and wrapping it in a dish cloth. "Here." He pressed it to the other Marik's eye.

He stood and allowed Ryou's doctoring, a wide, boyish grin on his face. "You think they're a nice shade?"

"I beg your pardon?"

"My eyes."

"Oh." A slight dust of pink rushed across his cheeks. "I suppose I did say that." He pulled down the ice for a moment to look into both of the other Marik's eyes. "What about Mariku?"

"What about it?"

"Well, Marik is a hard name to say."

"I'm sorry if my Egyptian name is too inconvenient for your cute, little Japanese mouth to say," he retorted, both echoing Ryou's earlier comment (about damsel in distress stereotypes) back at him, while returning the compliment for his eyes.

Ryou's cheeks grew a touch more pink as he pressed the ice back to his companion's eye. "I simply meant that if you feel like you're still Marik, but wanted some distinction, that could be a compromise."

"And it had nothing to do with the fact that it'd be easier for you to say?"

Ryou shrugged. "Nice bonus for me?"

He leaned a little closer. His one good eye trained on Ryou. "Sure. You can call me Mariku instead."

For a moment, Ryou smiled, but it dropped to a frown as he looked at Mariku's eye. "I'm so sorry. I'm so, so, sorry."

Marik pressed a huge, brown hand against Ryou's mouth. "If you apologize one more time, I will punch you back so we can be even."

Ryou moved Mariku's hand. "Aren't you mad at me?"

He shrugged. "Anyone else, and I would have snapped their neck on reflex, but... and no offense, but... you're not very threatening." He stared at Ryou for another moment. "Is it because _he_ controlled you for so long? When you had the Ring? Is that why you're so out of sorts?"

Ryou made a noise in his throat, neither agreeing or disagreeing. "I never wanted to be that weak again, to have all my control just stripped away, but it happened. When they pinned me down I had no control over myself... and I hate it... and then there were the memories of Pegasus... It's not one thing. It's all of them. All the memories, and feelings, and it's all spinning around my head. I can't stand it."

Mariku stared at Ryou. "I know... how that feels."

"I'm still sorry - please don't hit me."

Mariku laughed again. When his laughter died down the kitchen fell into a comfortable silence. Mariku shook his head a bit once he realized he'd been staring at Ryou.

Ryou smiled, sat down, and sipped his tea. "It's good."

"I like coffee," he said, not sure why he was speaking so freely. Perhaps it was because he knew that Ryou understood what it was like to share a body with another consciousness. "But I figured out the caffeine makes it worse."

"Makes what worse?"

"Wanting to fight or break things - break people. I've been trying to switch to tea, but I miss it, the strong, bitter taste."

"So you're fighting it? I mean, wanting to hurt people."

"I'm trying to figure it all out. I've been at the library every day since I've returned."

"The library?" Ryou asked, as if he didn't believe Mariku. "What do you do at the library?"

He grinned, sipping his tea and relishing the burn on his tongue. "Read books. Why? Is there something else to do there?"

"No, not really. You just don't strike me as a reader."

" _You_ don't strike me as the kind of person that would slice someone's face open with a knife."

Ryou's eyes dropped to the table. His expression crumbled with guilt.

Mariku shook his head. "Don't look upset. I meant that as a compliment."

Ryou stared at the bundle of cloth between them on the kitchen table, the knife still wrapped within. "You would, but I feel horrible."

"Dissociation."

Ryou lifted his eyes. "Excuse me?"

"That's what I read about. Dissociation and DID. The books are old, though. The internet was a little more helpful. I found a forum. I even spent one day chatting with another alter named Sasha." He chuckled. "Apparently he named himself that because it sounded feminine and he knew that would piss off his other self."

Ryou tilted his head, looking at Mariku with interest. "If it's not rude to ask, what exactly do two alter egos talk about over the internet?"

Mariku shrugged. "We mostly talked about the right to body time."

Ryou started laughing. Mariku scowled at him, and he lifted up his hands as if to defend himself. "It's not like that. I'm not teasing you - I just know how that is." He sighed. "Makes me kinda feel like an alter ego, too."

Mariku's scowl lifted back into it's former grin. "Welcome to the club."

"At least I have my body back now, and you have one of your own."

"Yeah, I'm lucky in a way, but at the same time..."

Ryou slid his hand across the table, as if he wanted to take up Mariku's hand although he didn't grasp it. "You can tell me."

"I was a coping mechanism for the things Marik couldn't handle. I was his hatred, but I was also his desire, too. He wanted to be stronger, so I'm strong. He wanted to be safe, so I destroyed the one that hurt him. He wanted to lash out at the Pharaoh, so I challenged the Pharaoh and his friends to Shadow Games. I know I was an over-dominant alter, but-" he slammed his tea on the table, knuckles white from gripping the cup. "He didn't care if we lived or died and I wanted to live, dammit. Why _shouldn't_ I have taken over? And now..." Mariku looked around the kitchen as if it held a secret beneath the layer of wallpaper. "What do I do? I always acted out Marik's desires before, but now I'm on my own... that's-" Mariku shut his eyes and turned away.

"Overwhelming?" Ryou offered.

" _Frightening_." Mariku grit his teeth after his confession. He didn't like the word. _He_ didn't get scared; _Marik_ got scared, and _he_ dealt with the fears. "It's frightening to be an alter without a main ego to feed off of."

Ryou made an understanding sort of coo. "Maybe this is stupid, but I kinda felt the same way after the Spirit left. He spent so much time in control, that when I got my body back to myself I was lost. I couldn't cope with something as simple as being in control of myself for an entire day. I slept all the time just so I could be unconscious for a while, and even now I'll have these weird moments where I feel... _wrong_. I feel wrong because I'm in control of my own body, and then I feel _stupid_ because I know it's not normal to feel that way."

Mariku let go of his tea cup, allowing one of his hands to overshadow Ryou's. They looked at each other across the table in silence, and Mariku wondered why his heart felt so skittish as it beat in his chest.

Ryou shrugged. "Why am I complaining? I promised to make you dinner."

"Dammit, quit being polite and go to bed. You need the rest." Mariku stood up, the chair scraping against the cream colored linoleum. "I'll go."

Ryou stood up quick so he was level with Mariku. "Don't go."

Mariku glanced over his shoulder to look at Ryou, eyebrow raised to question him.

Ryou shrugged. "I need to eat anyway. We could get takeout?"

Mariku grabbed his cloak and wrapped it around his shoulders. "I know a good place. I could pick it up and bring it back here."

"Let me give you some money."

He shook his head. "I got it."

Ryou blinked. "Do you have a job?"

Mariku shook his head _no_.

Ryou winced. "You... you didn't steal it, did you? Because I'd rather not use money that-"

"It's mine," Mariku interrupted him, teeth flashing in a manic grin. "I sort of stole it from Marik. I know all his account information, but I figured that bastard owed me. Besides, he has more money than you may think. He won't miss what I took."

Ryou sighed, shuffling out of the kitchen and going towards his couch. "Nevertheless... it's not really me saying thank you if _you_ buy the dinner."

Mariku stepped behind Ryou, whispering in his ear. "Well, you could always kiss me like the other two did."

Ryou jumped at the sound of Mariku's voice so close to his ear. It made Mariku laugh. He strolled out the door before Ryou could respond.


	3. Chapter 3

*****I've been bad about replying to reviews lately (especially on AO3 because I'm never sighed in on my phone, so if you've written a review and I didn't respond to it, I'm really sorry. I read them and appreciate them, I've just been crazy busy/tired lately, so I haven't replied to several.*****

* * *

Ryou sat on his sofa, eating noodles from a cardboard takeout container and half watching a movie. Really, he was talking to Mariku and using the movie as background noise to soften the moments when they fell into silence, which wasn't often. Their conversation started with body sharing woes, but slipped into gaming, and by the time they both realized they had near-obsession with Edgar Allen Poe, Ryou had forgotten the horror that brought them together and felt like it'd been the best night he'd had in years.

"This is pretty good for takeout, but you should still let me cook for you some time. My pad thai is better."

"Ryou Bakura, are you trying to seduce me with your cooking skills?" Mariku asked with a boyish grin.

Ryou started choking. He drained his teacup in order to wash the food down enough to breathe.

Mariku laughed at him. "Doesn't take much to fluster you, does it?"

Ryou snorted. "You said that you were as much the manifestation of Marik's ambition as his anger, so from now on I'm just going to take all your little quips as carry over from Battle City when Marik kept checking out the Spirit of the Ring - while he was wearing my body."

"Oh fuck, he did do that." Mariku set his food down on the coffee table in front of them. He blinked his dark, plum eyes unfocused with thought. Ryou hadn't noticed until that moment how much darker they were compared to Marik's pale lavender irises. "What if this _is_ just some weird carryover?"

" _This_? You mean sitting on the couch and eating dinner?"

"Yeah, it sounds stupid when you say it like that... Maybe I should go anyway." He scratched the blonde daggers rising up from his scalp.

"It _is_ almost two in the morning." Ryou frowned at the last bite of noodles into his container. He glanced up and noticed Mariku staring at him. "What?"

"Are you going to be okay? You were... You've had a bad night."

"I'm okay now." Ryou set his food down. "I was stupid earlier."

"You were in shock," Mariku said, "and triggers are a bitch, even for me. All three times... part of me wanted to help you and those two girls - but a lot of it was instinct, too. Being the damn protective, but violent, alter I was designed to be. I heard you ask me to stop before I killed the last one... I couldn't. I saw what they were doing and-" Mariku snapped his fingers. "In my mind they were dead the second I stepped into that alley."

"He had a knife to my throat," Ryou whispered. "I hated what you did... at first. It was horrible, watching them die, but when I remember it now..." Ryou shuddered. "The truth is that you saved me, and then you got me home even though I didn't believe you. I thought maybe you'd kill me."

"Understandable assumption, really." Mariku tried to smile, but it was a heavy, half-hearted expression. "It's what I seem to do best."

"I wouldn't say killing's what you do best." Ryou leaned closer to Mariku, resting his head against Mariku's anise-colored shoulder. "Turns out, you're even better at making people feel safe."

Mariku stiffened under the weight of Ryou's body, but didn't move or protest the action. "I... could get used to doing that."

Ryou giggled. "For the free kisses, right?"

"The second girl did this little draggy thing with her lips. I couldn't even _breathe_ when she did that, it was so good."

Ryou giggled louder. "Draggy thing?"

"Y'know." Marik used his hands as if reaching into the air for new words. "She pulled with her mouth, and it made her lips drag against mine."

Ryou's giggling turned into proper laughter. "Oh, if you like that, wait until you get French kissed for the first time."

Mariku used his shoulder to nudge Ryou. "Are you volunteering?"

"I wouldn't recommend it after eating pad thai!"

"Have you been Frenched kissed? Or are you teasing me?"

Ryou smiled, snuggling a little closer to Mariku's shoulder. "Once, once I kissed a boy like that when I was still in high school before I moved to Domino."

"What happened?"

Ryou poked Mariku's ribs. "You're not supposed to kiss and tell."

"It's a lesson in anthropology for me. I'm kinda dense when it comes to some of the finer details of humanity and human relationships - being made by a dysfunctional psyche."

Ryou rolled his eyes. "Well, when you put it like that…" Ryou sat back in his sofa, staring up at the ceiling as if the memory played on a movie projector aimed above them. "We both were in the Shogi club, and our game ran late, so everyone else left and we were alone." Ryou grinned. "He got mad after I won, so he started teasing me. I didn't pay him much mind because I was trying to pick up the game pieces so we could go home, but then he tugged at my hair and called me _princess_ to try and rile me up, so I grabbed his hair back - he had very messy, shaggy hair - and pulled him close enough to kiss."

"Did he kiss back?"

"Of course, I could tell he liked me before. That's why he was always trying to tease me and beat me in shogi."

"What happened next?"

Ryou sighed. "Bakura put him into a coma. He'd been doing that to all my friends, using the Ring to transfer their souls into Monster World dolls. Back then I didn't know any better. I had blackouts, and time skips, and had I known about Dissociative Identity Disorder back then I probably would have gone to a psychiatrist. It just seemed like I lost time, and when I came back and realized another person passed out, and that it was somehow my fault..." Ryou closed his eyes. "That's why I moved here - to Domino. I wanted to get away from everyone I cared about before more people got hurt."

"Little did you know..."

Ryou laughed. "Yeah, little did I know the shit-storm that awaited me here."

"Why didn't you go back?"

"By the time the Spirit was gone and I had the _choice_ to go back..." Ryou shrugged. "I felt guilty for what they'd been through, so I stayed here. At least Yugi and the others know why everything happened the way it did. I don't have to edit the story when I tell it to them."

Mariku nodded. "And me. I already know, too."

"You even more than Yugi. He got along with his other self. We always fought with ours. Still... I don't _hate_ him, the other me. I'm kinda sad he's gone. I just wish everything hadn't been a struggle."

"Yeah..." Mariku's eyes lit up glassy as he risked a glance at Ryou. "I know what you mean."

Ryou held Mariku's hand. "I'm sorry Marik banished you. I'm sure that hurt, being rejected by your other self like that."

Mariku sucked in a deep, slow breath, holding it before exhaling. "He acted like I killed the old man because I had nothing better to do that afternoon. Even at the end when he accepted his involvement, he still acted like it was some sin for him to carry. I don't understand. The bastard had a knife." Mariku stood up, walking behind Ryou's sofa and pacing. "I just don't understand why Marik doesn't get it. Sitting still and being a victim isn't something that makes you a good person, and defending yourself doesn't make you a bad one."

Ryou sprang up from the couch and crushed Mariku into an embrace.

Marik clenched his teeth and hands. "He _wanted_ it. He _wanted_ it, so I _did_ it."

"I know."

"Why is that evil?"

"I . . . don't know."

"I'm fine," Mariku snapped jerking away from Ryou. "I don't need your pity."

"It's not pity." Ryou shook his head, the hair around his shoulders swayed with the motion.

"Whatever, it doesn't matter now. I have my own body, I don't need that asshole."

"Want a change of subject?" Ryou offered with a weak smile.

Mariku stared at the floor. He shrugged. "Sure."

"We could watch a movie."

"I think I'd fall asleep."

"My couch is really comfortable. I fall asleep watching horror movies all the time." Ryou frowned.. "Where do you live, anyway?"

"About a block away. I was walking home from the library when I noticed you."

"So we're basically neighbors. You can watch one more movie and then just walk home."

With an absent-minded expression, Mariku twined a strand of Ryou's platinum hair around his copper finger. "Yeah, okay. If you want, but don't blame me if I fall asleep."

Ryou grinned, not minding Mariku's fingers in his hair. "I'll get a blanket just in case."

Mariku withdrew his hands so Ryou could go to his room and tug the duvet off of his bed. When he returned, he wrapped it around their shoulders as they nestled back onto the sofa. Ryou found himself leaning against Mariku's shoulder once again, but Mariku didn't complain so Ryou stayed curled up beside him.

They didn't speak as much as before, paying attention to the movie and occasionally shifting into a more comfortable position against each other while wrapped in the thick comforter. Half-way through the movie, Mariku released a heavy sigh.

Ryou rolled his merlot-colored eyes up so he could see Mariku's profile. "You okay?"

"Yeah, it's just weird. I never thought I'd get to do this, not with another person."

"Watch a movie?"

"The movie, and sitting like... like this. You're comfortable."

Ryou bit his lower lip, suppressing a smile and scooting a hair closer. "Anytime."

Mariku raised an eyebrow. "Anytime, huh?"

"Yeah."

"So I can just show up every weekend with an arm full of DVDs and take-out boxes and we'll just do this all night long?"

Ryou giggled. It sounded high and breathy in his ears, but he couldn't stop himself from making the noise. "That sounds amazing."

Mariku slipped his arm around Ryou's shoulders then, and Ryou held his breath to keep from gasping. The movie ended, and they decided on one more. Ryou chose _Session 9_ because he thought Mariku might like the psychological suspense. He did seem rather into it, and their conversations slowed then stopped as they got into the heart of the movie.

Ryou couldn't remember falling asleep. His mind seemed to stop, similar to when Bakura would lock him into his soul room, and then he became aware of existing once again. Ryou felt like he floated through a black void. It wasn't a cold or lonely void. The darkness around him felt warm and close, and only then did Ryou realize that he was sleeping. Then, he was awake, seeing only the darkness behind his eyelids. Next, he became aware that arms, thick with muscle, wrapped around him in a bear's squeeze, and a heavy leg was tangled up with Ryou's own. Warm breath tickled Ryou's scalp. He fluttered his eyelids open to see the crest of a bronzed shoulder and a square of fabric from his couch.

"I could get used to this," Ryou sighed, closing his eyes again.

Mariku made a small, groggy waking sound. Then, all at once, he jerked up, almost pushing Ryou off of the sofa. Ryou looked up, watching Mariku perch on the sofa arm. It reminded him of a bronzed gargoyle.

"Um... are you okay?"

Mariku looked around. "I didn't remember falling asleep, wasn't sure where I was or who was next to me." He glanced down, realized he was crouched on the sofa-arm, and stepped down with a sheepish look on his face.

Ryou propped his chin in his hands, elbows sinking into the cushions. "Do you want some breakfast?"

"I... it'd be nice, but I need a shower." He tugged at his black t-shirt, showing stiff areas. They didn't leave a visible stain in the black material, but Ryou could tell that it was blood. "I never meant to stay."

Ryou's eyes sank to the cushions. "Sorry about that."

"I really want to finish that movie, though."

Ryou's eyes lifted again, and smile teased the corners of his mouth. "How about tonight? I can make dinner."

Mariku rubbed the back of his head. He looked bashful. "It's not like I have anything better to do."

"You're not going to roam the streets like a comic book vigilante in search of damsels to rescue?" Ryou winked at him.

"I can do that all week long."

Ryou started laughing. "You even have a cape like a comic book hero."

Mariku's cheeks deepened to a shade of mauve. "Maybe hero's not the right word."

"Antihero, then."

"Pffft, more like villain."

Ryou stood up, shaking his head. "No. Don't look at yourself that way, Mariku. That's not fair." He grabbed a sharpie from a jar of pens and walked up to Mariku. He grabbed Mariku's wrist and wrote on his arm.

"The hell you doing? It's bad enough my back was used as the Pharaoh's memo pad, now you're writing on my arm?"

Ryou looked up. "I'm sorry, Mariku, I didn't think. I just wanted to give you my phone number."

Marik looked down at his arm, smiling at the numbers. "Don't you have paper?"

"You can't lose it when it's on your arm."

"I... don't have a phone, though."

"You don't?"

"Who would I call?"

"Oh..." Ryou sighed. "Sorry. I can give you my email? They have computers at the library, right?"

Marik held out his arm.

"Are you sure? I wasn't trying to use you as scrap paper."

He didn't reply, but stood with his arm held out, so Ryou uncapped the sharpie once again and wrote his email below his phone number. "This is just... y'know, if you have any questions, or want to make sure I'll be home to watch movies, or... y'know, just say hi." Ryou turned away so Mariku couldn't see him blushing - not that it mattered because Mariku was still blushing.

"Thanks... Ryou, thanks."

Ryou shrugged. "I don't see why you're thanking me. You're the one who helped me last night."

"Then why does it feel like..." he turned around and walked towards the door, peeking over his shoulder before stepping out. "Like you're the one who saved me?"

"Mariku?" Ryou stood, dumb and blinking, although he wanted to grab Mariku in another hug like he had the night before.

"I'll be back at dusk." He winked. " _Ryou-hime_."

"Oh, you ass!" Ryou shouted as Mariku shut the door. He rested both hands on his hips, but smiled at the door.

Ryou ran to his room, searching through his closet, trying on different things, and hating every piece of clothing he own. He settled for a pair of jeans and a semi-casual, black button up with short sleeves. He brushed his hair and his teeth, put on a touch more cologne than normal, stared at his face in the mirror, and felt like an idiot. It felt a bit like high-school again, playing a game of shogi.

Ryou told himself that he didn't have a crush. He didn't. _He didn't._ That would be ridiculous. The night before rushed back to him and Ryou ran to the television, checking every local news station he could find, but there was nothing about bodies found half-burned in a dumpster. It was as if Domino City simply didn't care.

He went back to the table, staring at his torn shirt twisted around his knife. He put the shirt in the wastebin and hid the knife in his closet. He decided to keep an eye on the news, but otherwise add the experience to his _crazy shit that goes unnoticed in Domino City_ list, which was a rather long list.

Fifteen minutes later, Ryou found himself pacing in the kitchen with a cup of tea.

He _didn't_ have a crush on Mariku.

Because that would be stupid.

Getting rescued and then becoming smitten was a little too much like a cheesy romance for Ryou's taste, and he always preferred horror movies.

Then again... Mariku fit into that genre really well.

And he could ramble to Mariku about Shadow Games and Millennium Items without feeling crazy.

And he liked _Poe_ \- freaking Edgar Allen Poe!

Oh, who was he kidding?

…What was he going to make for dinner?

Ryou grabbed his apartment keys and shoes - different shoes since his favorite pair were in a dumpster with half-burnt corpses - and ran to the store.


	4. Chapter 4

Mariku stepped into his apartment and frowned. After seeing Ryou's crowded, but cozy, place, he realized how desolate his own place looked. A mattress lay on the living room floor in a corner, a chair and upside down milk-crate sat next to it. The kitchen had a microwave and a drawer held disposable chopsticks and plastic cutlery. A few pre-packaged dinners filled the fridge, the bathroom had two towels, and that was Mariku's entire life.

He scowled. He never cared before, but something about the previous night made him wish he had the kind of place he could bring someone home to. Mariku couldn't even find a piece of paper so he could use it to write down Ryou's phone number. He ended up staring at the markings on his arm, memorizing them, then walking to the shower as he pondered about his empty apartment.

He shook the stupid musings out of his head and washed everything, thoughts and blood, down the drain as he showered. The shower water scalded him, but he sighed into the steam and heat and tried _not to think_ about the bliss he'd felt that morning curled up next to someone before he'd woken up and freaked out.

Mariku looked through the few clothes he had in the bedroom closet stashed in the back of his empty bedroom. He had three khaki pants and five dark-colored t-shirts. He frowned, tossing on a different black t-shirt and a fresh pair of pants, before he decided he needed to go to the store. He glared in his refrigerator, but nothing looked good and his stomach felt tight and nervous, so he gave up breakfast and walked out the door.

In the store, Mariku frowned at racks of clothing, and he frowned at the sales floor representative that offered to help him. When he left, he held three bags bulging with clothes, accessories, and toiletries. He owned soap and toothpaste, but had never bothered with anything else. He used the bar of soap on his hair, not caring what it did to the stiff, defiant spikes crowning his skull.

Next, he went and picked up a cell phone, although he'd been tempted to stab the saleswoman because she kept talking to him when he just wanted to grab the first phone and retreat to the isolation of his apartment.

When he returned, he found himself frowning at his bathroom mirror, his counter littered with red-capped, gray cylinders, clear plastic bottles, and aerosol sprays. He tried to brush his hair for the first time, but the bristles stuck in his spikes and turned the golden lances into a dandelion blossom gone to seed - yellow puffed out in every which direction. He soaked his hair in the bathroom sink, combed it with his fingers, and chucked the brush down the hall.

"Fuck this, " Mariku muttered, scowling at his reflection. He looked like a maniac ready to go on a murdering spree. That used to amuse him, but it wasn't the look he wanted for the evening. Slamming his fist on the counter, Mariku snatched a bottle of mouse and lathered his hair with the thick foam. He tried to flatten it, make it look more like Marik's, but it was impossible. Despite the soft texture, his hair insisted on standing up. Instead of trying to tame it, Mariku added some gel and tried to roll with the crazy, spiking his hair up higher, and forcing the loose strands around his neck to stand straight with the rest.

Next, he grabbed kohl and lined his eyes, but he didn't exaggerate the wings as much as Marik. He dressed in new clothes, black slacks and a shirt the color of pinot noir, and changed out his tomb-keeper jewelry with a silver-spiked, black leather choker, and small, silver hoop earrings. He gave himself a final inspection in the mirror.

He looked like a well-groomed maniac ready to go on a murdering spree.

Mariku groaned, retreated to the living room, and flopped on his mattress with arms and legs splayed out. He wasted the day staring at the ceiling, getting up only to shuffle to the fridge and eat one of his prepackaged meals. He chewed without tasting the food, and brushed his teeth afterwards, frowning at his reflection, at how dangerous he looked.

When the sunlight forced its way through the blinds shifted from lemon bright to ruddy orange, Mariku stood and brushed the wrinkles out of his shirt. He grabbed the bag with his new phone and headed down the block to Ryou's apartment. He knocked on the door and frowned at his boots while he waited.

The door swung open. Ryou stood and blinked in the doorway. His snowy-white hair spilled over one shoulder. A simple tie held the stands in place. The ebony of Ryou's shirt made the delicate white of his skin glow, and Mariku swallowed hard as they started at each other.

"Wow," Ryou whispered.

"Huh?"

Ryou smiled. "I didn't realize you owned other clothes." He laughed at his own joke. "Every time I've seen you, you had on the same khakis and tank top."

"Yeah, all two times you've seen me, and the first time you didn't really see me because it was that bitch in the Ring."

"Good point, but still..." Ryou's sentence faded as his eyes trailed up and down Mariku's body. Ryou blinked. "I'm sorry. I'm being rude again. Please, come inside." Ryou stepped back. "Dinner's almost ready. If you want you can sit in the kitchen as I finish."

Mariku nodded and followed Ryou to the kitchen. He closed his eyes, inhaling the savory mix of spices filling the room. Ryou pulled back a chair, offering the seat to him. He stared at it a moment, the gesture was unnerving to him because of its politeness - he wasn't used to being on the receiving end of courtesy. After a moment, Mariku sank into the chair. "...Thanks."

"You're welcome." Ryou smiled.

"Smells good, " Mariku murmured under his breath.

"Thanks. I wasn't sure what you liked, so I picked curry." Ryou frowned. "Spicy food doesn't bother you, does it? I made it pretty hot."

"I... think I like spicy food?" Mariku twisted his face in thought. "No one's ever cooked for me before."

"Don't be polite." Ryou placed tea and cups on the table. "If you don't like it, tell me so I can make something else. It's no trouble. I promise."

Mariku poured their tea while Ryou set two plates on the table. Steam floated up from the plate of rice, chicken, and chickpea curry. Bright red peppers garnished the dish, and the smell made Mariku's mouth water.

He took a timid bite. The food seemed to bite him back, burning his mouth and bringing tears to his eyes. He took a larger bite, enjoying the way the food stung his mouth.

"Well?" Ryou asked, biting his lip out of nervous habit.

"This is incredible." Mariku didn't even look up. He keep his head down so he could scoop more food into his mouth.

"I'm so glad! No one likes food as spicy as I do, so I never get to make it for company, and food is always better when you eat it with a friend."

The chop sticks fell from Mariku's hand. He looked up at Ryou's warm cinnamon eyes.

"Did... Did I say something wrong?"

"No." Mariku shook his head. "No. It's just... no one's... ever..."

Ryou set his chopsticks down, walking over to Mariku's side of the table and taking Mariku's hands into his own. "No one's ever said you were their friend before?"

Mariku shook his head no.

"I'd like it... if we were."

He shook his head _yes_ , throat tight and unable to answer.

Ryou squeezed Mariku's hands before letting go and returning to his own meal. They ate in silence for most the meal. Mariku finally gathered his nerves and said. "I bought a phone."

"Really?"

Mariku shrugged, side glancing at Ryou. "I have someone to call now."

"Yes, you do." Ryou grinned.

After they ate, Ryou washed the dishes while Mariku set up his phone and programmed Ryou's number into it. Once that was finished, they made their way to the living room. The blanket from the night before still draped along the sofa, and Ryou used it to wrap them together.

"Do you remember where we were when you fell asleep?"

"No," Mariku answered, distracted by Ryou's body heat and the smell of his cologne.

"Neither do I." He used the remote to backtrack a few scenes.

"That looks familiar," Mariku said.

"Okay."

It didn't take long until Ryou sat curled against Mariku's side. He leaned into Ryou, enjoying the contract. He leaned a fraction closer in order to smell Ryou's hair. Vanilla and sandalwood filled Mariku's mind, and he couldn't prevent the sigh that snuck out of his mouth.

"Do you want me to move?" Ryou asked.

"No." Mariku growled in an attempt to force his voice into something other than a content moan.

"A-are you sure? Because-"

"Shhh, they're playing more of the tapes."

The movie was about a crew removing asbestos in the walls of an old asylum, but what interested Mariku was the subplot - old tape reels revealing the story of an inmate named Mary who'd somehow developed three alter egos when she was a young girl.

Mariku snorted after the next bit of tape. "It's bullshit that Billy and The Princess could talk to each other. I never had another alter to talk to."

Ryou giggled. "Didn't like being an only child, did you?"

Mariku snorted a second time. "Did you like being an only child?"

Ryou sat up. "I... wasn't..."

Mariku turned away from the movie to look at Ryou.

He stared at the floor. "My little sister, Amane, died in a car accident with my mother when I was young."

"Oh." He knew he should say _sorry for your loss_ , but that felt stupid and empty and he refused to do it. "Is-" he winced, but continued his question, "-is your father still alive?"

"He works a lot. His job takes him all over, and he's busy. He called on my eighteenth birthday."

"But... aren't you older than that?"

"I'm twenty now."

Mariku's hands balled into fists. "Fuck him. You're better off without him."

"Probably." Ryou shrugged. "But it'd be nice... if things were different." He looked up at Mariku. "Don't you think so? Wouldn't it be nice? If you could talk to Ishizu?"

"No." Mariku pulled his knees into his chest and hugged them, scowling at them. "No. I hate them. All of them. They didn't do anything to save Marik. _I_ did. I was the only one that did a damn thing, and then they _hated me for it_. Fuck them. Fuck them. I hate them. If your damn other half hadn't stopped me I would have killed Rishid and laughed, and then laughed some more as I snapped Ishizu's neck." He slammed his eyelids shut. His voice lowered to a harsh whisper. "I hate them so fucking much."

Ryou grabbed Mariku's arm. "I'm sorry, Mariku. I didn't mean to make you-"

"Don't."

They fell into silence. Ryou's hand slipped down Mariku's arm and landed on top of his hand. They sat like that, near, but not as close as before, holding hands and watching the movie.

"Maybe this wasn't a good movie to pick," Ryou whispered towards the end.

"Shhh, I don't want to miss anything."

Madness, in all its forms, was of interest to Mariku. In a way, madness was the closest thing to a mother he'd ever have, but he realized too late why Ryou had second thoughts on showing him the movie. It came with the last tape revealing Mary's story.

A familiar story.

Too familiar.

A child. Darkness. Fear. Pain. Wounds that would leave scars. A dark alter ego. Murder. The loss of family, and the host ego locking it all away.

Mariku couldn't breathe. His ears thrummed with the sound of his heartbeat.

" _And where do you live, Simon?"_

" _I live in the weak and the wounded... Doc."_

He felt Ryou's hand go back to his shoulder. "Mariku? Are you okay?"

He opened his mouth to answer, but only a stifled wail exited from between his lips. He felt himself slide off of the couch, knees crashing to the floor before the rest of him followed. He curled into a ball - face pressed against the carpet - and he screamed, but he couldn't hold the angry sound. It broke, along with something inside him, and the scream scattered into searing tears.

Ryou sank to the floor beside him, wrapping his arms around Mariku and combing fingers through Mariku's hair. "I'm stupid, so stupid. I remembered Gordon's story, but I forgot all about Simon. I'm sorry, Mariku."

Mariku burst up, grabbing Ryou and half-crawling into his lap so he could hold the person beside him tighter and cry into the crook of his neck. Ryou rocked them.

"God, I'm stupid. I'm sorry."

"Stop. Saying. Sorry." He looked up. His tears burning memories on his cheeks as the anger flooded back into the proper place inside him. " _I_ did it. _I_ did it! But it's true - you do it because they _let_ you, because they _want to do it_. You cut them up. You cut them up because they cut you first - _fuck_!" Mariku cursed, reaching behind Ryou and digging his nails into the sofa upholstery hard enough to rip the fabric. "I don't fucking _want_ to speak in second person! _Fucking dissociation!_ "

Ryou leaned back, eyes wide, horror-struck, but he couldn't move because Mariku still straddled his lap.

Mariku continued to scream, to babble the maelstrom of thoughts ripping his mind into chaotic vortexes. " _I_ cut him because he cut _Marik_ first. _Marik_ cut him because he cut _me_ first! I was in control, but it was what Marik wanted! But he _hated me for doing it_!"

Ryou nodded his head, his adam's apple bobbing up and down. Mariku couldn't tell if Ryou nodded because he understood, or because he wanted to placate Mariku. The former alter ego pushed himself to his feet and walked towards the door.

"Wait - where are you going?" Ryou called from his spot on the carpet.

Mariku ignored him, opening the door and slamming it shut behind him. His face burned from both the hot scratchy tears on his cheeks and the embarrassment he felt. No one, _no one_ , had ever seen him anything but angry. He felt busted up and exposed like a lobster at a super table. From behind, he heard Ryou's voice still calling out to him, but he couldn't turn around, couldn't go back. One weekend with Ryou had brought up more emotions that six months of living on his own and it was too much for him to handle.


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Can't post tomorrow, so here's the chapter a day early.

Ryou tried chasing after Mariku, but couldn't keep up, and although Mariku had put Ryou's phone number into his new phone, Ryou had forgotten to ask for Mariku's number in return so he had no way of contacting Mariku. The work week dragged by slowly, and Ryou couldn't help but replay his strange weekend in his mind over and over again. He still checked the news and browsed the internet for any stories about bodies in trash bins, but he never saw anything.

Thursday night Ryou had a nightmare. He was back in the alley, but Mariku was still in the Shadows and no one came to help him. He'd woken up drenched in sweat, hair clinging to his neck and cheeks, sheets soaked through. He'd wanted to see Mariku at that moment, to feel his thick arms around his shoulders and to hear his guttural voice remind Ryou that he'd killed all of them so the dream was ridiculous.

Ryou'd gone so far as to change into jeans and a t-shirt and walk a block away from his apartment in the direction he'd seen Mariku run off to. The night turned everything into black, cardboard cut-outs, and the streetlights only added to the fake, surreal appearance of the city. Ryou saw another complex and was sure that was where Mariku lived, but the building had three stories and he never mentioned which apartment number or even floor he lived on. Gooseflesh pulled Ryou's skin tight. He rubbed his arms to stave off the chill as he sighed and turned back for his own apartment building. He'd spent the rest of the night on his sofa, curled in the blanket he and Mariku had shared and falling asleep only because a wisp of Mariku's cologne still clung to the blanket.

While walking home from work that evening, Ryou passed his own apartment and returned to the one in which Mariku lived. He found the mailboxes, but they were blank squares of metal adorned only with apartment numbers and no names.

A guy close to Ryou's age walked up to check his mail, keeping his eyes trained on his key and ignoring Ryou altogether.

"Excuse me?" Ryou asked. "I'm looking for my friend, but I forget which apartment he lives in."

The other guy glanced at Ryou with dark eyes. The young man's suspicion reminded Ryou that he needed to move to a nicer neighborhood.

Ryou flashed his most charming, and disarming, smile. "His name is Mariku. He's foreign, keeps to himself, spiky blonde hair like he's always cosplaying."

The cosplay remark got a snort from the other male. He closed his mailbox and shoved the key into his pocket. "Second floor. Not sure which room." He walked off.

"Thank you!" Ryou called.

He acknowledged Ryou with a dismissive wave of his hand and continued to walk away. Ryou found the elevator and went to the second floor. Thin, grayish carpet spread out to the right and left inside the hallway. Ryou went left on a whim, staring at each door and the silver numbers painted on them. 214, 216, 218 on one side 213, 215, and 217 on the other side. Some had little flashes of character - a plant near the door of 213, a bell shaped like a cat on door 218, but nothing that suggested Mariku lived in any of the rooms.

"Ryou?"

Ryou spun at the sound of his name. He face broke out in a smile when he saw the wild spikes of gold. Ryou ran down the hallway and threw his arms around Mariku.

"How did you find me?"

"I didn't. I was looking for you - you found me."

Mariku shrugged out of Ryou's embrace. "Why are you here?"

"I..." Ryou frowned, feeling stupid, feeling his cheeks flare up. "I was hoping you wanted to watch a movie? Perhaps a slasher flick with lots of blood and no complexity of plot or character what-so-ever."

Mariku's violet eyes flicked away, staring at the potted plant near door 213. "About last weekend..."

"That was my fault."

"No, it wasn't. And if you apologize, I will throw you out a window."

Ryou laughed. "I've missed you."

Mariku's eyes flicked back towards Ryou. "You did?"

His face was hotter than a brush fire; his mouth drier than kindling. "Yes. It bothered me that you ran away."

Mariku shoved his hands into the pockets of his black slacks. "It was too much. Not the movie - me. I was feeling too much. I didn't like it."

"I'm sorr-uh, I mean, uh..." Ryou fidgeted with his hair. "Get over it."

Mariku raised an eyebrow at Ryou's change in tactics, a glint of interest in his eyes.

Ryou grinned. "We're even now. You saw me break down in the shower. I didn't want you to see that, but you did, and I saw you break down as well. Get over it. We're friends. Friends have fun together, but they also see each other at their worst."

"I don't have any furniture."

Ryou sighed. "Didn't hunt you down to see what kind of sofa you had."

Mariku stepped closer. "Can we finish Session 9?"

"Are you crazy? Why would you want to see that again?"

"Just the ending. I missed the last five minutes."

Ryou crossed his arms over his chest. "Only if you buy the take-out."

Mariku winked. "I think I can manage that."

Ryou started toying with his fingers, a nervous habit he couldn't help as he tried to think of something to say. "So..." He looked around. "Which one is yours?"

Mariku flinched. "You _don't_ want to see my apartment."

"Yes I do. I want to know where you live." He smiled. "You know, in case you ever run away again, knocking on every door would be embarrassing."

Mariku stared at his feet. "I told you, I don't have any furniture."

"And I told you I didn't care." Ryou took a step closer, bridging some of the distance Mariku had put between them. "Please?"

Mariku exhaled, rolling his dark plum eyes. "You're too damn polite, anyone ever tell you that?" He grabbed Ryou's hand and led him down the other end of the hall until they reached 207. He looked at Ryou. "Here."

"Well? Open the door."

Mariku frowned at the doorknob as he fitted his key and unlocked the door. Ryou stepped inside. A mattress set in the center of the room. The opposite wall had a flat screen TV. Below the television sat a milkcrate topped with a DVD player.

Mariku pointed at the set up. "I thought it would be fun to watch some movies on my own, but..."

Ryou smiled. His chest felt full and bright which made him a little bolder than would otherwise be. "It's like spicy food, right? It's more fun when you're with someone."

The air blew slow from Mariku's nostrils. He gave Ryou a grudging nod.

Ryou grabbed Mariku in another hug, although Mariku had separated them last time he tried it. Before he could filter himself, he pressed his face against Mariku's chest and started rambling. "You just left, and I didn't even know if you were okay or not, and I was worried, but I couldn't find you, and I didn't have your cell phone number, and I had a nightmare last night, and I wanted to call you, but I couldn't. I even got dressed and found this place, but wasn't sure where you lived so I walked home, but then I came right back after work, and I was just hoping I'd see you somehow, but I was afraid I wouldn't."

Mariku grunted when Ryou paused for breath, running his fingers through the gossamer strands of Ryou's white hair. "Yeah... forgot how seriously you take your friendships."

Ryou laughed, refusing to move from his warm, comfortable spot pressed against Mariku's chest. "That's right."

Mariku used his pointer finger to tilt Ryou's face up by the chin. Curiosity glinted in his plum-colored eyes. "Why didn't you call any of your other friends?"

Ryou tried to look away, but Mariku added his thumb on the grip he had on Ryou's chin to prevent it. Ryou exhaled. "Yugi doesn't like spicy food, Jonouchi hates anything scary, and Anzu would get the wrong idea if I tried to cuddle with her on the couch... I wanted to hang out with you."

Mariku chuckled. "How do you know I don't get the wrong idea when you cuddle with me on the couch?"

"Maybe it wouldn't be the wrong idea if you got it," Ryou whispered. After he said it, he forced his face out of Mariku's strong grip. Still, Ryou caught the grin on Mariku's face before he looked away.

Mariku wrapped his arms around Ryou and threw them both on his mattress.

Ryou shrieked at the sudden movement, closing his eyes. When they landed on the soft mattress instead of the floor he released the breath he'd been holding during the fall. "What are you doing, Mariku?"

He wrapped a blanket around them, squeezing Ryou a little harder. "Nap first, then take-out and movie."

"What?" Ryou squirmed a little in Mariku's hold. "Why are we taking a nap like this?"

Mariku brushed his fingertips across the delicate skin beneath Ryou's eyes. "Because you look like you need it. You have dark circles under your eyes like you did during Battle City."

"I didn't get much sleep at all last night." Ryou touched Mariku's face. "But at least the purple's gone from around your eye."

"That's because I've gone all week without hanging around dangerous people like you."

Ryou rolled his eyes. "Oh, please."

They dropped back into a silence. Ryou didn't mind it, but it made him aware of how they lay tangled together. He squirmed again, but Mariku was resolute in his hold.

"Trying to escape? Too bad, I've made you my prisoner."

"You're such a dork." Ryou squirmed a little more, now he was doing it for the pure fun of it. Mariku's body was strong and warm and delightful to press against.

Ryou's coy struggling brought out a predatory instinct in Mariku. With a torrid growl, Mariku rolled on top of Ryou, pinning his arms over his head and leaning close. The breath caught in Ryou's throat. His heart tittered in his chest, and he waited, watching Mariku with half-lidded eyes and parted lips.

Mariku blinked, as if just woken from a dream. His cheeks lit up the color of sunset, and he rolled off of Ryou, keeping his back turned as he curled in on himself on the other side of the mattress.

Ryou frowned; his body throbbed with unresolved tension. "Emotions... freak you out a bit, don't they?"

Mariku nodded his head, but didn't move or speak.

Ryou rolled next to him, curling against the warmth of Markiu's back, but careful to only lay next to him without touching him too much.

A low, pained moan escaped from Mariku's mouth. He turned to face Ryou, grabbing him and pressing him into his chest. Ryou nuzzled against Mariku's sternum. They lay in silence, and three minutes later Ryou fell asleep. He woke up to the feeling of coarse fingers running through his hair.

"Mmmmm." Ryou pressed his face harder into Mariku's chest. "I hate waking up."

"Then don't," Mariku said. "I got you."

Ryou purred. He liked the idea, of sleeping in more, of staying right where he was, but he forced himself to sit up nonetheless. "Hungry?"

Mariku nodded.

"Pad Thai again, or something else?"

Mariku shrugged. "You pick."

"You're buying, so you should pick."

Mariku looked bashful. "W-want to go somewhere? Sit down instead of take-out?"

Ryou smiled, toying with a strand of white hair. "Are you asking me on a date?"

Mariku crossed his arms over his chest. "You said I could get the wrong idea."

"No." Ryou shook his head. "I said it wouldn't be the wrong idea if you got it."

"That still implies-" Mariku propped his elbows on his knees and rested his chin in his hands. "-that I can ask you out to dinner."

Ryou smiled. "Yes. It does." He looked down at his work clothes and frowned. "Let me go home and change. Meet me at my place in 45 minutes?"

"Okay."

"But first..." Ryou pushed his cellphone into Mariku's chest. "Give me your number."

"What? Don't I get to write on you?"

"This is easier."

"Much less fun," Mariku said as he typed his number into the phone. He handed the phone back to Ryou when he was done.

"Thanks." Ryou nodded, looking in his phone. He raised an eyebrow when he looked in his phone book. "Colon capital D? You put a laughing face instead of your name?"

"Just in case one of your lame ass friends gets ahold of your phone."

"They're not lame. They just don't like cool things like spicy food, or Poe, or horror movies, or..." Ryou cleared his throat, interrupting himself. "Okay, they're a little lame, but they like games, so I'm going to continue hanging out with them on our gaming nights anyway." Ryou poked Mariku's shoulder. "Just not on the weekends." Ryou pursed his lips. "If you're a smiley face on my phone, what am I on your phone?"

"Ryou," Mariku sang the word more than spoke it, a wolfish look on his face.

Ryou narrowed his eyes. He lunged at Mariku, reaching for his pants pocket. Mariku tried to grab Ryou's wrist, but he wasn't fast enough. Once he had the phone, Ryou jumped up and sprinted down the hallway until he was safe and locked inside of Mariku's bathroom. Mariku pounded on the door and gave threats, but Ryou ignored him as he opened up Mariku's phone book.

" _Princess Ryou_!" Ryou shouted through the bathroom door.

"It was funny!"

Ryou unlocked the door, flinging it open and shoving Mariku against the opposite wall. He brought his face centimeters away from Mariku's. "Remember what happened to the last guy that called me that?" He said, managing to make his voice sound somewhat threatening (thanks to years of experience playing roleplaying games).

Now it was Mariku's turn to stare at Ryou with half-lidded eyes and held breath. Ryou licked his lips, leaning a bit closer and holding Mariku's gaze. He smiled, shoved the cell phone against Mariku's chest, and walked away. "See you in 45 minutes!" he called as he left.

He caught, out of the corner of his eye as he turned away, Mariku sliding down the wall and sitting on the carpet, breathing heavily. The sight made Ryou smile, made his entire body tingle.

He spent too long choosing what to wear and heard Mariku knocking on the door the moment he stepped out of the shower. Ryou had to answer the door with his hair pinned up and a towel wrapped around his waist.

Mariku whistled when he saw Ryou. "You won't kiss me, but you'll answer the door naked?"

"You didn't kiss me either." Ryou stuck his tongue out at Mariku. "Besides, this is my first real date. If you want a kiss goodnight, you're going to have to earn it."

Mariku looked thoughtful, stepping inside and shutting the door. "I guess it's my first date as well."

Ryou winked, turning to go and change. "I'll try and be a gentleman, then."

Mariku followed Ryou to the hallway, hanging back so Ryou could change privately. "As if you could be anything else!"

Ryou bit his lower lip to repress his grin as he slid into a pair of black, leather pants. He matched it with a blood-red button up that he left untucked. He undid the tie in his hair and shook out the white strands until they fell in a wild mess around his shoulders.

He stepped out of the bathroom so that Mariku could see him. "Oh? You don't think I can be wicked when I want to be?"

Mariku's eyes widened. "Damn, Ryou."

Ryou blushed, and stared at his still bare feet. "Well, I wanted to look nice for our date."

"Damn, Ryou."

Ryou glanced up. "You look good, too."

Mariku gestured with his head. "Let's go. I want to earn that kiss now."


	6. Chapter 6

He was afraid Ryou would pick some stuffy restaurant with waiters in starched, white collared shirts and black ties, but where they ended up at was a crowded hibachi bar with a casual atmosphere. They spoke about nothing while they ate. Mariku never imagined that talking about nothing could ever be rewarding or satisfying, but somehow Ryou made empty chat a treat.

The busy, crowded, noisy background provided a welcomed distraction from Mariku's thoughts. His mind kept returning to his moment with Ryou on his mattress. He almost kissed Ryou then, but before he could lower his lips to meet Ryou's - a strange urge seized Mariku, a hungry, violent urge that consumed Mariku's every nerve and forced him to push away before he did something he might regret. He hated himself for his own emotions, for the fact that he was still dark and violent despite beginning to act more like an individual and less like a compartmented fragment of psyche.

He closed his eyes, sipped on a cup of tea, and listened to the chatter surrounding them as Ryou finished the last of his meal. Mariku glanced at him, admiring the way the red brought out the pure white of Ryou's skin and hair. Every instinct demanded Mariku grab Ryou by that white, pure hair and smash their mouths together, hard, until he tasted the blood from their teeth cutting into the backs of their lips, but instead he focused on the way the tea burned his mouth as he drank and the sounds of dozens of voices talking about nothing.

"Ready to go?" Ryou asked after he popped the last strip of beef into his mouth.

Mariku poured the rest of his tea into the back of his throat as if it were a shot of vodka and nodded. They stood up, Mariku paid the bill, and they walked into the city nightlife.

Ryou took Mariku's hand once they were outside. "Want dessert? My treat."

"Okay."

They went to a bakery. Ryou selected a dozen varied pastries and had them boxed so they could eat them back at his place. Mariku carried the box as they returned back to his apartment. Inside, Mariku glanced around at the crowded shelves, the sofa, the bean bag chairs.

"I still need furniture," he thought out loud.

"I could help you find some," Ryou offered, patting the couch beside him to encourage Marku to sit down. "There's lots of second hand stores around here."

"Okay... Text me whenever you want to go?"

"Yeah." Ryou gave him a shy smile. "I game with Yugi and the others on Mondays, but any other night is good. Maybe Wednesday?"

Mariku nodded.

Ryou's eyes lit up as he stole the box of pastries from Mariku's hands. "Here." He opened the lid and picked out one that looked like it was filled with a thick custard. "We can eat a few tonight, and the rest in the morning for breakfast."

He shoved the confection against Mariku's lips, and Mariku couldn't help but open his mouth and take a large bite. He moaned a little once the taste of sugar filled his mouth. "That's really good."

"They're my favorite. I got eclairs, too, but nothing beats the simplicity of a creampuff." Ryou dabbed his finger against the corner of Mariku's lips. "Here, you missed a spot." Ryou offered his finger to Mariku.

He leaned forward to lick the custard from Ryou's fingertip, but that wild, primal urge overtook him again and he instead swallowed Ryou's entire finger. He held the digit in place lightly with his teeth as he used his tongue to swirl around Ryou's finger, sucking the custard from the tip, but savoring the taste of Ryou's skin as well. He kept his eyes locked on Ryou's the entire time - he a golden cobra and Ryou a white dove frozen in Mariku's gaze. Mariku pulled his mouth away with a loud, popping sound.

Ryou's delicate eyelashes looked like snowflakes as his eyes fluttered closed. He crawled across the couch towards Mariku, fumbling his way to Mariku's chest and flicking his eyes open at the last moment as he brushed their lips together.

Mariku moaned in ecstasy as Ryou did the draggy thing with his lips the second girl had done, but Ryou didn't stop with dragging, he pulled Mariku's bottom lip, sucking on it, licking it, tasting it in the same way Mariku had tasted Ryou's finger. When he pulled away, they both gasped for air, their cheeks coral and their lips plump with friction.

Mariku pounced on top of Ryou. They rolled to the floor, landing with a hard thump. On instinct, Mariku bit the side of Ryou's throat, licking and sucking, and growling with pleasure at both the way Ryou struggled beneath him and the cries Ryou called out. Ryou tried fighting back, yanking at Mariku's golden hair, but it only registered as masochistic joy in the back of Mariku's thoughts.

Mariku pulled away, noticing the purple bruise already appearing on Ryou's flawless, porcelain skin. It wasn't until that moment, until he saw the color so similar to the Shadows, that Mariku realized what he'd done. With a hard push, Mariku jumped to his feet and sprinted out the door, not stopping until he was back at his own apartment complex.

He noticed a chirp from his phone. He fished the device from his pocket and saw three messages from Ryou.

_Mariku?_

_Mariku why did you run away again?_

_Dammit, you better answer me!_

Mariku grit his teeth together, squeezing the phone tight in his hand. He jabbed the keys on the phone.

_I had to go!_

He shoved the phone back in his pocket as he reached the elevator, but it was only three seconds before another chirp demanded his attention.

_Why?_

Mariku glared at the screen.

_I was hurting you! I don't want_

Mariku closed his eyes; he didn't finish typing the sentence. He ignored the two more chirps as he walked to his apartment. Dropping to the bed, Mariku brought the phone back to his face to read Ryou's messages.

_You most certainly were not hurting me._

_Mariku, I PROMISE you weren't. Please answer back._

He laughed, sad and bitter and lonely.

_Goddamn, even in your texts you're too polite._

_You didn't hurt me._

_I bruised you. That's hurting._

_That's called a hickey and I enjoyed getting it, So it's not the same as hurting._

Mariku blinked at his phone a moment. He swallowed.

_Ryou... I couldn't stop. Don't you understand? I couldn't stop. I'm too dangerous and you need to let me be before I do hurt you._

A long pause filled the room as Mariku waited to hear another beep from his phone.

_Don't make me eat all these alone._

Mariku sighed. He knew he was making a mistake, but he answered.

_I'll come back for breakfast._

_Promise?_

_Yes._

_Then goodnight._

Mariku started at the ceiling, eyes trailing along the familiar cracks spidering across the plaster. The silence ate at his mind. Mariku grabbed his phone, checking the time. 3:30am, he glared at the time, knowing it was too late to text Ryou, but he couldn't help himself.

_You awake?_

_Yes, actually. Can't sleep at all._

_Me neither._

_Well that settles it. I'll be over in five minutes._

_Are you crazy? It's too dangerous to walk our street at night._

It took longer than normal for Ryou to reply.

_Too late. Omw._

He wasn't sure what the letters meant, but he understood Ryou was a stubborn jackass, so Mariku ran out the door and jogged down the block until he saw the ghost-like glow of Ryou's skin in the streetlight. He held his box of pastries and two DVDs in his hands.

"You idiot. You don't even have a jacket on!"

"I lost it that one night."

Mariku ripped the cape from his own shoulders and wrapped it around Ryou. He grabbed a cape-clad shoulder, turned Ryou around, and escorted Ryou home.

At the door, Ryou grabbed Mariku's wrist. "You said you'd stay for breakfast."

"It's too early for breakfast."

"I want to eat breakfast now."

Mariku pushed Ryou inside before giving a retort. "Ryou, don't you get it? I'm dangerous. I want to hurt you. You need to let me go."

"You keep saying that, but you won't let me walk alone and you gave me your cape so I wouldn't get cold."

Mariku gnashed his teeth together. "That's because I don't want to hurt you..." Mariku lowered his head. "But I'm afraid I will and I won't be able to stop myself."

"Do you feel like hurting me now? "

Marike shook his head no.

Ryou pursed his lips. "Can I try something?"

Mariku shrugged. "Sure."

Ryou set the pastries down, stepped forward, and held Mariku's hands. "Mariku, how does this make you feel?"

"Nice? Your hands are soft."

"What about when I do this?" Ryou embraced him.

Mariku sank into the hug, smelling Ryou's hair and sighing with content. "Happy... It makes me really happy. That's why I could kill a thousand other people, but I'd never want to hurt you."

"And when I do this?" Ryou nuzzled against Mariku's throat.

Mariku gasped. He struggled to utter, "excited."

"And this?"

Ryou pulled at his lips again and, gods help him, he'd never felt so exhilarated, but as the pleasure coursed through his entire body so did the urge pin Ryou against the wall.

"I can't," Mariku moaned, holding his stomach in pain and stepping away. "It makes me want to bite and scratch you until you scream."

Ryou blushed. "Mariku, I don't think it's violence that you're wanting."

He stared at the bruise on Ryou's neck, remembering the delicious feel of Ryou beneath him, struggling and screaming. "Yes it is."

Ryou sighed. "How do you normally feel when you attack someone?"

Mariku blinked. "Pissed off?"

"And when you want to attack me?"

His face burned at the thought. He struggled to express the complexity of emotion into words. "It's kinda like when I merged with Ra. I feel power-drunk, and giddy, and like I can't lose."

Ryou smiled. "That's sweet."

"Sweet? I confess that I want to burn you alive when you kiss me and you think it's sweet? What kind of morbid fuck _are_ you, Ryou Bakura?"

Ryou chuckled, hiding his mouth behind his hand. "Don't you see? You don't want to hurt me. You want to..." A rampant blush overtook Ryou's entire face. Even his throat and ears blushed.

Then Mariku understood and he hoped he blushed less than Ryou about it. "But those are different things! Even _I_ know those are different."

"Well, yes, they're kind of opposites."

"Then why do they feel so similar?"

Ryou shrugged. "Procreation is wired into the survival part of our brain? I don't know, honestly. I never had a chance to pay attention in biology because that was the year I had the Ring."

Mariku glared at Ryou. "Do you want to hurt me? Is that just how it feels? Or am I mixing it up in my brain?"

Ryou's face was already rosy, but Ryou's expression suggested he wanted to blush more. "I mean, I was pulling your hair when you were sucking on my neck, but I never considered that it might hurt you. I was just acting on instinct."

Mariku scowled. "Acting on instinct is what concerns me. Whenever I do that people usually die."

"Well." Ryou grabbed Mariku's hand and dragged him to the couch. "How about this?" He pulled them down and wrapped Mariku up in his slender arms.

"This... is nice, but why are we...?"

"We'll just do this instead of kissing." Ryou glanced up at Mariku. "Until you feel more comfortable."

Mariku flicked his eyes away. "What if that never happens? What if I'm just messed up and I can never kiss you without feeling violent?"

Ryou pressed his face against Mariku's chest. "Then I'll hold you forever."

The breath caught in Mariku's throat. He'd never felt less like an alter and more like a person than at that moment. He curled against Ryou's slender body, letting all his concerns drop into the moment like stones into a koi pond and falling asleep safe in Ryou's arms.


	7. Chapter 7

*****Have chapter 7 a day early for Valentine's day*****

* * *

A pounding on the door woke him. Mariku stumbled away from his bed - a proper bed that sat in his bedroom - and made his way through his now-furnished apartment to the door. The night-shadows cut lines of dark and darker across the walls as Mariku rubbed grit from his eye with a fist and shouted at the door.

"Who is it?"

A soft, muffled reply came through the otherside.

Mariku threw the door inward. "Ryou, how many times do I have to tell you not to walk alone at night? Call me and I'll go to you."

Ryou stood in the doorway, white hair tangled around his face, eyes dark with china-blue circles. "I had that dream again. The one with Slifer."

Mariku hooked an arm around Ryou and pulled him inside the apartment, slamming the door behind them. Together, they shuffled towards the bedroom. "Want some tea?" Mariku muttered.

"No, I just want to sleep without one nightmare or the other."

Mariku gave an agreeing grunt. He had nightmares as well. Sometimes it was a knife, sometimes his bare hands, once it was a guillotine, but it was always the same afterward - Ryou motionless beneath Mariku's body, too pale, too still, empty of everything that made him Ryou. Mariku winced at his own thoughts. He pulled Ryou down into the blankets and pillows and into his arms as well. Ryou curled up on his chest, breath already slowing, muscles relaxing.

"This is the only time I sleep well."

Mariku ran his fingers through the tangles of Ryou's hair. "Me too."

"How long has it been?"

"Since what?"

"That night?"

"Oh." Mariku closed his eyes, thinking of how many weekends and how many months they'd spent together. "Ten months in a week."

"Our anniversary is coming up, then. I'll make a cake. What kind should I make?"

"Strawberry with vanilla buttercream."

Ryou chuckled. "You always pick strawberry."

"It's the color of your lips when you're turned on."

Ryou looked up at that, his gaze sleepy and hazy with something much deeper than fatigue. "Yeah?"

Mariku pulled Ryou up an inch higher so their faces could reach. "Yeah."

He closed his eyes, ghosting his lips against Ryou's once and then pulling away - it was all he dared to do.

The shadows in the room couldn't mask the streaks highlighting Ryou's high, delicate cheekbones. "That's the first time you've kissed me in months."

Mariku took Ryou's hand and kissed each knuckle. That was safe, somehow, kissing hands, cheeks, the tender curve of his temple. Anything else brought panic.

"If we move in together, we could afford a nicer apartment."

Mariku's lips moved to Ryou's slender wrist. "If I could keep a job."

"You kept the barista job for three months. That was pretty good."

"Until I punched my manager and broke his nose."

"Well, he shouldn't have grabbed that girl's ass."

Mariku sighed. "At least I didn't kill him."

"Will you at least think about it?"

"About killing him?" Mariku asked, half asleep.

"No, silly, about moving to a different place."

"Yeah. I'll think about it in the morning."

"Mariku?" Ryou exhaled the question into his chest, falling asleep.

"Hmmm?"

"I love you."

"I love you, too, cream puff."

"Mmmmmm... for breakfast?"

Mariku smiled as he drifted off. He meant to say _yes_ , but wasn't sure if he'd actually said the word or just thought it as he fell asleep. Instead of a nightmare he had a spectacular dream. They were small, no taller than a stick of pocky, and in a garden, everything silver in the moonlight, and he laid Ryou down in a hammock woven from honeysuckle and he _loved_ Ryou until the moon grew heavy and sunk below the horizon.

He never had a dream that beautiful, each color oversaturated and more real than life, the emotions in the dream coursing through this blood, and when he woke up, he realized that Ryou slept with his arms wrapped hard around Kek's chest and his body nestled inappropriately in between Mariku's legs. He thought about trying it - trying to love in life as he loved in his dream, but he still felt the violence crawling inside him and it prevented Mariku from moving.

He lay in bed and listened to Ryou breathe. After a while, Mariku began to nuzzle the crown of Ryou's skull, and caress his hair.

"Mmmmm... five more minutes."

Ryou shifted and it made Mariku's eyes close as a jolt shot from his cock to his navel. He rode out the feelling before speaking."

"Roll over so I can go buy breakfast."

"Five more minutes, Mariku, I promise."

"You never keep that promise." Mariku curled up so he could reach Ryou's ear with his mouth. He gave the shell of Ryou's ear a slow lick and slight nibble, hoping to wake his sleeping companion enough to make him roll to the side.

His plan backfired. Instead of rolling over, Ryou squirmed, grinding himself into Mariku's already forming erection. Marik tossed his head back into his pillow, breath stuck somewhere in his bronchioles. He lay there a moment, hot-faced and awkward, until he couldn't take it anymore. Mariku spiked his hips up a mere inch, just enough to deepen the sensation of Ryou's weight already pressed into him.

Ryou gave him a sleepy, happy mewl at the movement, reflexively pressing his hips down in return.

Marik lay there, enjoying the stabbing pleasure the movement created. He swallowed. "Okay, Ryou. Wake up now. You should really, really wake up now."

Ryou pressed his face harder into Mariku's chest, a muffled _no_ his only other reply.

"Yes. Yes you should."

"Nnnnnooo."

"I'm not going to leave you alone until you roll over."

"You're warm and comfortable," Ryou muttered, a little more awake than before.

Mariku smirked, knowing he was pushing it, but unable to stop himself, he pressed upward again. " _Comfortable_ am I?"

"Oh god," Ryou moaned at the movement, but it snapped him awake. He jerked up and scurried to his own half of the bed. "Oh, I'm sorry. I-I didn't realize."

Mariku sprang on him, holding Ryou's wrists together in one hand and using the other to caress his cheek. "What have I told you about apologizing about every little damn thing?"

"Do it often so we can have more moments like this?"

Mariku brushed his nose across Ryou's. "You're hopeless."

Ryou giggled. "Stop. That tickles."

Mariku worked his way down to Ryou's throat, inhaling Ryou's sent as his nose caressed the warm, white skin. "Your hair smells good."

"I switched to your brand of shampoo because I liked how it smelled. See, we really should move in together. We'd save money on shampoo."

Mariku pulled away, releasing Ryou's wrists. "No we wouldn't. One bottle would go twice as fast."

Ryou sighed. "You're missing the point."

"Am I?" Mariku smothered Ryou's forehead with faint kisses.

Ryou closed his eyes, instinctively turning his head to make Mariku's trail of kisses moved down his cheeks and closer to his lips. Mariku's dream clung to his memories, and he found himself complying to Ryou's unspoken request, shifting his kisses to Ryou's mouth, but keeping them soft and light, never giving either of them a chance to latch on or deepen the brief contact.

He pulled away, face warm and stomach twisting in nervous knots.

Ryou looked up him, his eyes shiny-bright and his lips burning red. He looked hopeful, but Mariku felt frightened in a way that darkness, pain, or even the Shadow Realm could never evoke. He jumped out of bed, tossed on shoes and a coat - Ryou bought the coat for him once Mariku realized that capes were a rather antiquated way to stay warm - and ran out the door.

He sucked in cold breaths of early morning air, letting the welcomed chill clear his mind. He didn't want to think. Thinking brought thoughts of Ryou, the shape of his lips, the fragility of his body... Mariku couldn't risk it. Entering the bakery helped; the smells of fresh-baked bread and sweets always calmed Mariku, perhaps because it reminded him of Ryou. Mariku inspected the glass cases, mouth watering. The baker walked up to the counter, a woman with an ebony streak in otherwise stone-gray hair.

"It'll be a moment, dear. I haven't had time to fill them yet."

Mariku felt himself blush a little. It was pretty bad when the shopkeeper knew your order as soon as you walked in the door. Maybe he and Ryou visited the bakery once or twice - a week - on top of baking almost every weekend themselves.

"I could do it," Mariku offered out of reflex. He always helped Ryou.

"Oh? You think you could?"

He nodded. "My friend taught me."

He didn't like calling Ryou his _friend_. He had friends, of a sort. Regulars from the library, two guys who had worked with him at the coffee shop, and a neighbor who lived on the floor below. They weren't too close. They didn't share the kind of bond with Mariku as Yugi had with _his_ friends, but Mariku was proud of the tentative social bonds he'd managed to tie together since becoming something more than an alter ego.

But Ryou was more than a friend. He wasn't someone Mariku simply wanted to hang out with - he was the person Mariku wanted to spend everyday with.

The baker distracted Mariku from his thoughts. "Let me see, but you buy any you mess up."

Mariku followed the lady to the kitchen, the smell of yeast and dough stronger in the back. Sweat nipped at Mariku's neck. He took off his coat and draped it on the back of a chair, feeling sheepish in plaid PJ pants and his old, black tanktop. He washed his hands and dried them before going to the prep table. He had no problem filling and sealing the piping bag and then using it to stuff custard into the little round pastries.

"What else can you do?" the baker asked.

"Anything dessert," Mariku answered, paying more attention to the pastries than the woman. "I'm not allowed to cook tofu anymore because last time I burnt it and got angry, so I flung the pan out the window."

Mariku winced after he said the last sentence. Sometimes he forgot that normal people weren't as destructive as he was. He feared the woman would look worried, but she laughed. "You remind me of my late husband. He had a temper, too. It's hard to run the store without him."

"Did he frighten you? When he lost his temper?"

"No, he made me laugh."

A smile stole control of Mariku's face. "Yeah, Ryou usually laughs at me, too."

"The quiet boy that's always with you?"

Mariku blushed and turned away to fill the last of the pastries. "Yeah. He's the friend that taught me how to bake."

Again, he hated using that word for Ryou, but there was no other word to use. Had he grown so close to either of the first two girls he rescued, he could have called either of them a girlfriend; unfortunately, calling Ryou his boyfriend would have caused Ryou trouble at the museum where he worked, so Mariku kept quiet although he personally didn't care what people thought.

"What about bread? Did he teach you that?"

Mariku nodded. "Loaves, baguettes, rolls, croissants; he had a book and we went through the entire thing one weekend at a time."

"Want a job?"

Mariku dropped the empty piping bag on the prep table. He looked up at the woman, wide, amethyst eyes blinking in confusion.

"I've been thinking about hiring an apprentice, but no one wants to learn how to bake these days."

"I do."

She nodded. "Then be here at 5 AM Monday morning." She boxed up a dozen cream puffs. "Here, take these to your friend."

"Th-thanks," Mariku muttered, blushing again and almost forgetting to grab his coat as he ran out the door.

He was in a good mood. He still had some of Marik's money in savings, but it wouldn't last forever, and each time Mariku lost a job, he worried a little more if he would never be able to adjust to human life, but baking was something he enjoyed - the smells comforted him and the physical busywork of stirring and kneading calmed him.

Mariku reached into his pocket when he heard his phone chime.

_You didn't run away again, did you? I can leave if you want to come back home._

Mariku frowned at the text before remembering he'd ran out the door after kissing Ryou.

_Don't you dare leave. I'm bringing home cream puffs and a newspaper._

_Why a newspaper?_

_So we can look for an apartment._

_REALLY?_

Mariku bit his lower lip, grinning at the phone. He decided to torture Ryou just a touch.

_We'll talk when I get home._

Ryou protested via another text, but Mariku ignored it. When he walked in the door, Ryou pressed him against the wall straight away, nuzzling aggressively against Mariku's chest.

"Watch the cream puffs."

"Were you serious? About moving in together?"

Mariku smiled. "Yeah. I got hired at the bakery and decided a new place would be worth a try."

"Wait, when did you get hired at the bakery?"

"About fifteen minutes ago."

"That's - wow, I'm jealous. That's got to be the best job ever."

"I just hope she keeps me in the kitchen so I don't have to deal with people."

Ryou chuckled, pressing a kiss into the crook of Mariku's neck. The gesture was innocent enough, but it melted the cartilage in Mariku's knees and force him to lean harder against the wall.

"So," he gasped, trying not to sound as out of breath as he felt. "A-are we getting a one bedroom or two?"

"One. Definitely one." Ryou bestowed one last kiss upon Mariku's throat before stealing the box of pastries and taking them to the kitchen table. "I sleep better beside you."

Mariku toyed with his fingers, uncharacteristically nervous. "Ryou... it doesn't bother you does it? That we still haven't..."

Ryou walked back to Mariku, holding his hands and kissing his knuckles as he spoke. "I miss you during the week, and every night it's harder to sleep without you in bed with me." Ryou grabbed Mariku in an overwhelming hug. "I'm so happy right now with just the thought of seeing you every day, so don't worry - about anything. I told you I'd hold you forever if need be, and I meant it."


	8. Chapter 8

*****Well, the fluff was nice, 7 whole chapters is probably a sitabethel fluff record or something, but it's about to citrus-infused for this and the last chapter, lol*****

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"How was work?" Ryou asked when he walked through the door.

"Good," Mariku answered. They'd been living together for three months, and every time Ryou walked through the door Mariku smiled. It was a reflex he couldn't control, like closing his eyes when he sneezed.

"I'm glad. It'd be a shame if we got banned from our favorite bakery."

Mariku thought about it. He'd grown fond of the old woman. He didn't want to say she was like a mother, but... "You don't have to worry about that."

Ryou laughed. "I wasn't. Not really. What do you want for dinner?"

"I want to kiss you," Mariku blurted out before he could think. He hadn't kissed Ryou, not on the mouth, since the day he got hired at the bakery.

Ryou winked. "That sounds more like dessert."

Mariku walked up to Ryou, brushing his fingers down Ryou's cheek.

"Oh." Ryou's face became the color of peony blossoms. "You're serious."

Their eyes stayed locked together. Mariku stepped forward and Ryou stepped backward until Ryou found himself sandwiched between Mariku and the living room wall. Mariku grabbed both of Ryou's wrists with one, broad hand. Ryou sucked in an excited breath.

He needed Ryou's hands to stay still. He knew if Ryou started grabbing him while caught up in the moment, it would awaken his more violent instincts. Love, strong fierce love, the kind of love that Ryou loved, was too much like violence for Mariku. "Let me lead, okay?" Mariku whispered.

Ryou nodded. His body relaxed in Mariku's grip. Mariku leaned in close, feeling the heat of Ryou's face on his own cheeks. He started with a soft, chaste kiss, something safe, and then another. Ryou sighed. His eyes fluttered shut and his snowy lashes continued to tremble, as if he were dreaming. Mariku added the faintest hint of movement, taking his time with each kiss, breathing between each volley to keep his mind from being overstimulated. Mariku started to drag his lips against Ryou's mouth, sucking gently on Ryou's bottom lip.

Ryou moaned, a mix of pleasure and frustration. Mariku knew Ryou hated being completely out of control of himself, and pressed against the wall with his wrists bound probably wasn't ideal for him. Mariku took Ryou's hands and guided them to his hips. "Keep your hands on my hips," Mariku whispered.

"Can I hold tight?" Ryou asked, voice wavering, but he sounded pleased to have control of his hands back, even with restrictions.

"No digging in with your fingers, no nails, nothing like violence."

Ryou nodded. "I understand."

His own hands free, Mariku held Ryou's jawline, lifting his face up to get a better angle at Ryou's mouth. He drew his tongue along the curve of Ryou's bottom lip. Ryou took this as an invitation to press his own tongue into Mariku's mouth.

Mariku whined, surprised and enraptured. Their lips grew wet. The pauses in between each kiss grew sparse as they only separated to suck in air like drowning men before plunging back against each other.

The urge to scratch and bite and tug at Ryou's gorgeous mane of white boiled in the back of Mariku's mind, but he managed to keep his lips supple and yielding until his and Ryou's fronts accidentally grazed each other. It sparked pure euphoria across Mariku's body. He moaned from the sensation, voice hoarse and wild.

He unraveled after that. The need to get closer wove into his need for violence, and Mariku pushed himself away before he had a chance to do anything.

"You okay? Are you alright?" Ryou asked, looking guilty although he hadn't done anything wrong.

"I'm good." Mariku rubbed his face, speaking right away so Ryou didn't worry. "I got a little too excited, so I had to stop."

Ryou hummed at the statement. "It was pretty exciting."

"Maybe... maybe we could try again later?" Mariku raised an eyebrow at his own question.

Ryou's face flushed as he nodded in quick agreement. "Anytime you feel comfortable enough to try..." Ryou looked away, the pink hue on his cheeks simmering to deep coral. "I, uh, I think I'm going to take a quick shower."

Mariku grinned. "Uh-huh. _Shower_. I know what that means."

Ryou's face changed to an even darker shade. "D-do you want to play video games instead? Castlevania is still in the Super Nintendo, and-"

Mariku grabbed Ryou's hands again, kissing them instead of binding them. "We can play after."

"Are you sure?"

Mariku leaned close to Ryou's ear. "Go before I change my mind and ravish you."

Ryou's breath caught in his throat before he answered. "That suggestion certainly won't encourage me to go anywhere."

"No, but it'll give you something to think about while you _shower_."

Ryou kissed his neck, allowing his lips to linger against Mariku's skin before he left down the hallway and towards the bathroom. Mariku bit hit bottom lip, grinning. It'd been more than they'd done since that first time when Mariku had bruised Ryou's throat. Mariku wondered if perhaps next time he could try kissing Ryou's throat again without biting.

He sank on the couch, shuddering at the ache in his groin. He couldn't use the shower, not in the same way Ryou was using it. Each time he neared climax, Mariku's fantasies always turned violent, and then he hated himself afterwards, so he avoided the process altogether except when he absolutely couldn't stand it anymore.

"I wish I was normal," he told the deep purple throw cushion near his head. At one point he might have said _I wish I was human_ , so he supposed that wanting to be normal was progress. The consolation still didn't alleviate the ache in his groin, however.

Mariku closed his eyes, trying to take deep breaths, trying to relax his jaw that kept trying to hold tight and grind his teeth. He couldn't shake the tension from his body, or calm the ache in his center. He wondered if this time was one of those times where he absolutely couldn't stand it anymore. He felt his erect cock twitch in his jeans, and Mariku found himself grazing his fingertips up the mound rising through the fabric of his pants. He rested his hand on his stomach, trying to hold out, not sure how much longer Ryou would be in the shower.

Then he realized he didn't hear the shower anymore, and at the same time he realized it, Mariku felt Ryou's breath on his cheek. His eyes jerked open and he started. "Holy shit, Ryou, don't sneak up on me, I could snap your neck on a reflex!"

"I didn't mean to." Ryou licked his lips. "You just didn't hear me."

He knelt beside Mariku on the couch and held Mariku's hand - the one that had just brushed himself, and Mariku flushed as he wondered if Ryou had seen that.

Ryou held his mouth close to Mariku's ear. "Do you trust me?"

The heat of Ryou's breath tickling Mariku's ear made a chill spike through his stomach. Mariku could barely pull enough air into his lungs to breathe; there was a strange energy in the air. He nodded.

Ryou placed the throw cushion against Mariku's chest. "Hug this."

Mariku gave Ryou a funny look, but humored him.

Ryou grabbed a box of tissues he kept on an end table near the sofa. "We're going to play a game. You have to do everything I tell you. You have to obey perfectly."

Mariku snorted. "And if I don't?"

Ryou gave him a sugar-crusted smile. "Then you lose and the game ends."

"How do I win?"

"By holding the pillow and not letting go until the game is over."

Mariku shook his head at Ryou. He opened his mouth to say something, but Ryou's tongue struck against the roof of Mariku's mouth before he had a chance to process what was happening. Ryou's lips muffled the moan Mariku made at the surprising warmth and texture filling his mouth. Ryou kept his hands light on Mariku's shoulders, and kept their kisses languid and deliberate.

Ryou withdrew and Mariku groaned at the loss, but he didn't suffer for long before Ryou started kissing his neck. Ryou didn't bite, or suck; instead, he tickled his lips down Mariku's Adam's apple, and lapped his tongue at the hollow of Mariku's throat.

Mariku's hand almost jumped to Ryou's neck. He wanted to grab the other male, and slam him on the ground, and rut against him as his teeth liberated small beads of blood from Ryou's marble-white skin.

"Remember the game," Ryou whispered against Mariku's pulse, as if seeing Mariku's fantasies behind his own eyelids. "You can't touch me, but I can do whatever I want to you."

Mariku growled, furious at Ryou's calm tone and at his own obsession with winning games. When he felt the soft, arbitrary weight of Ryou's hand on his crotch, he had to shove the pillow against his face, biting into the fabric in the way he wanted to bite into Ryou's flesh.

"Behave," Ryou whispered as he kissed Mariku's tense knuckles and applied a slight amount of pressure to the hand on Mariku's jeans. After a few tentative pets, Ryou started palming Mariku's need in earnest.

Mariku bucked and snarled, swearing _fucks_ into the pillow, but he didn't let go. Ryou said he'd stop if Mariku let go of the pillow, and he couldn't handle the idea of stopping.

Ryou's fingers, quick and deliberate, undid the buckle to Mariku's belt and pulled down the zipper of his pants. "Come down to the floor," Ryou ordered.

Mariku slid off of the couch as Ryou tugged Mariku's pants to his knees. The carpet tickled his ass, but he didn't much care because Ryou was hunched over him, stroking and touching Mariku's erection for the first time and it was the most desperate, needful urge Mariku had ever known.

"Good, Mariku. That's good. I won't stop as long as you hold on tight to that pillow."

Mariku snarled an unconvincing, violent threat at Ryou through the cotton and suede, and Ryou slowed down the pace of his hand to an agonizing crawl.

"What was that?"

"I'm sorry!" Mariku screamed, unashamed at the submissive words because he _needed_ Ryou to touch him much more than he needed dominance. "R-Ryou, please, please."

"Are you going to be nice?"

"Yes."

Ryou sped up halfway. It wasn't enough, and Mariku whined into the pillow, incapable of thinking straight. Ryou leaned in close. "Want me to go faster?"

He nodded, bare knees sticking up on either side of Ryou's slender arm as Mariku sat on the carpet with his pants tangled around his calves.

"Kiss me. If you're nice, I'll speed up. If you bite, I'll slow down."

Mariku lowered the pillow from his face and smashed their mouths together. The kisses were wet and sloppy, the best Mariku could manage under the circumstances, but they must have been enough, because Ryou started moving with rapid jerks of his hand.

Mariku gasped, clinging to the throw pillow more to have something to hold onto than for the rules of their game. He leaned against Ryou's shoulder, muttering in the strange bastardization dialect of Middle and Late Egyptian and colloquial Egyptian that the tomb-keepers often spoke during informal moments, muttering that Ryou was his light of the sun. Then, he screamed, tossing his head back.

Ryou grabbed tissue from the little box and used it to keep Mariku's semen from spilling onto their clothes or furniture. Mariku bucked three times and then slumped into Ryou's arms, still holding the pillow as if it were part of a game they played, although he realized he'd won.

"How do you feel?" Ryou whispered.

"Comfy," Mariku muttered into Ryou's shoulder.

"Do you feel violent?"

He shook his head _no_. He'd never felt less violent, now that it was over.

Ryou smiled. "You won our game. What's your prize?"

"I want to stay like this," Mariku murmured into Ryou's naked shoulder. Ryou wore a towel around his waist, but was otherwise nude.

"Forever," Ryou said as he pulled them back onto the couch and allowed Mariku to lay dazed in his arms.

Once Mariku recovered, Ryou made dinner. They spent the rest of the night playing Castlevania and talking about games and work and random thoughts that skittered around their minds during the day.

That night, as they slept coiled around each other, Mariku had another dream. He was a dragon, golden and huge with fire spewing from his mouth, and Ryou was a knight with a white plumed helmet. He stabbed Mariku in the heart and Mariku died, but his human form crawled out of the dragon's mouth, naked and weak from heat exhaustion.

Ryou threw his armor to the ground, pulled Mariku to his feet, slammed them both into a pile of gold, and conquered him for a second time.

Mariku gasped as he opened his eyes. His face felt warm and he was stiff from the erotic dream. Ryou lay curled against him, and Mariku stroked his silken hair as he stared at the shadows on the ceiling.

It was strange. He never considered the possibility of Ryou taking charge before. Mariku always assumed that _he_ himself should. Because he was stronger, it always seemed that he should be the one _taking_ \- taking initiative, taking charge, taking whatever he could grasp - but perhaps it was that old way of thinking that brought back all the old violence.

"Did you have a nightmare?" Ryou murmured, his words sleep-blurred.

Mariku glanced at Ryou - petting his hair must have half-woken the other male. "A dream. I didn't mean to wake you."

"S'okay," Ryou sighed, squeezing Mariku. "What was your dream about?"

"You."

"Oh?"

"We didn't have clothes."

"Yeah?" Ryou said, notably more awake. It amused Mariku, since Ryou didn't tend to wake easily.

"You were between my legs."

"I never have dreams that nice," Ryou sulked with a small laugh, drawing on Mariku's chest with a slender, white finger.

"Ryou?"

"Yes, Mariku?"

"You haven't kissed me since the first time."

"Of course not. You would have gotten upset."

"That's true, but..."

Ryou pushed himself up to his arms, russet eyes searching Mariku's face. "Do you want me to?"

"Do it like you did on the couch. Tell me what to do."

Ryou rubbed his cheek in a shy, sheepish gesture. "O-okay. I'll try." He grabbed Mariku's hands and placed them on either side of Ryou's hips. "Keep your hands here. If you want to move them you have to ask for permission." Ryou brushed the tip of his nose against Mariku's cheek. "Remember, if you disobey, the game ends."

Mariku stared at Ryou for a moment before closing his eyes and tilting his face up at a gentle angle. Ryou kissed with fast, eager pulls of his lips, his fingers twining into Mariku's spiky hair.

Mariku dug his fingers into Ryou's hips, overexcited because of the way Ryou yanked his hair.

"Softly," Ryou whispered.

Mariku growled, but lightened the pressure of his hands on Ryou's hips. He knew there was nothing _making_ him ease his grip. He could pick Ryou up and slam him down. He could bite and snarl and take what he wanted and nothing could stop him. The worst of it was that Ryou wouldn't even stop him, even if he clawed at Ryou's skin until it bled, or slammed into Ryou's body until they both felt raw. Ryou was so used to taking the good with the bad and enjoying it all, that it would take a lot before he asked Mariku to stop.

And Ryou treated it like a game.

Yes, that sinister addiction that all previous Item holders shared - games with high stakes. Nothing was _making_ him ease his grip on Ryou's hips, but he knew if he didn't, Ryou would end the game. Then it wouldn't matter what he could take or what he could do. He still would have _lost_ , and Mariku hated to lose. _Especially_ after what happened the last time he lost a game. Although, in this game - unlike a Shadow game - he and Ryou were bound together, to win together or to lose together.

Ryou pulled away, and Mariku growled in protest. He wasn't done playing. Not yet. _Not yet_.

"I'll be right back."

Ryou shifted to leave, but Mariku held his hips. "No."

Ryou smiled, pressing a finger against Mariku's lips as if to shush him. "You behave and let me go. I'll be back in half a moment."

Mariku dropped his hands, angry when Ryou disappeared out the room. The dream already had him riled up, and the kissing hadn't helped.

Ryou had only disappeared for a minute before he bounced back onto the bed and lay on top of Mariku with a wicked look on his face that somehow managed to be adorable despite the open lust within it. He planted a single buck against Mariku's pelvis. "Do you want to hold onto my shoulders or hips?"

Mariku swallowed a grunt from Ryou's movement, shaking his head from side to side because he didn't understand the question.

Ryou slid against him again, this time his movements were soft and repetitive. "Answer me. Shoulders or hips?"

"Hips," Mariku managed, not really sure he had a preference. He was lost in the motion of Ryou's body, and hips just happened to be the last thing Ryou said. Mariku felt his hands placed back onto Ryou's hips.

"Good. Don't let go unless you ask."

Mariku grunted. With Ryou rocking his body up and down on top of Mariku's, he couldn't really think - and didn't really want to. Ryou adjusted their bodies so that both their erections pressed together, making his gentle back and forth motions even better. Mariku sank his nails into Ryou's skin, grunting each time Ryou shifted upward.

"Stop that," Ryou ordered.

Mariku considered clawing a little in defiance, but remembered that it was a game and went back to holding Ryou's hips with the pads of his fingers.

"Good," Ryou whispered. "Do you like this?"

"Yes."

Ryou moaned. His eyes half shut as he studied Mariku's face. "Since you listened, I'll make it even better."

He took a little bottle, one he'd brought back with him, and squeezed something into his hand. Ryou lifted his hips enough to slip his fingers between their bodies. The gel was cold, and Mariku hissed when it touched his skin, but as soon as Ryou returned to sliding their bodies together Mariku understood. The gel made them slick, allowing them to slip against each other without resistance and go faster. And Ryou did go faster, _faster, faster, faster_. Mariku started panting and making soft, sweet sounds because of it.

"Can I - urgh - shoulders?" he asked, as well as he was capable, a little too overwhelmed by sensation to be articulate.

"Go ahead," Ryou whispered.

Mariku curled his arms around Ryou's neck, pulling Ryou closer and nuzzling his nose along Ryou's throat.

"Can I kiss?"

"No biting."

Mariku nodded. He knew Ryou didn't mind the biting, but he was forcing Mariku to go slow. His tongue lapped at Ryou's creamy skin, sucking a bit but avoiding the use of his teeth.

Ryou moaned, moving as fast as he could while still exposing his throat for Mariku to suck. Once satisfied, Mariku pulled back, muttering encouragement into Ryou's hair.

His hands began to slip down Ryou's shoulders before he remembered himself. "Ryou?"

"Yes?" Ryou asked, short of breath as he continued to rub their lower bodies together.

"Can... my hands... I want... please, I need to..."

Ryou laughed, leaning down onto Mariku's chest. "Sure. Go for it. I can't roleplay as controlling anymore - I'm too close."

And that was Mariku's problem as well. He was too close and couldn't focus on games, or violence, or anxieties. There was only the overwhelming need to grab Ryou's ass and increase the pressure and friction between them. He did exactly that, making Ryou moan.

Every gesture became needy, from the way his hands pushed Ryou faster, to the way his hips jerked up, to the quiet whines skipping out of Mariku's mouth. He held his breath as his body trembled. Then it was over and Mariku lay with his arms pooled around Ryou's back. Ryou still bucked, close but unfinished. Instinct took over and Mariku sat up, pulling Ryou into his lap. In his post-orgasmic daze, Mariku didn't ask for permission, nor did he worry about succumbing to violence. He wrapped his hand around Ryou's erection and stroked as Ryou grabbed his hair and bucked into Mariku's fist.

Ryou gasped, a strangled noise followed as he tensed while he came and then dropped into Mariku's lap. Ryou cooed, curling against Mariku's shoulder and smothering Mariku's torso with light, snowflake kisses. He giggled a bit, refusing to stop, and Mariku's chest rioted; his heart happy to see Ryou look so content. He didn't think he'd ever been as happy as he was at that moment.


	9. Chapter 9

*****Here y'guys go. The ending. Next Monday will be a Thiefshipping AU one shot. Have a great week, everyone!*****

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"I love when you come home from work because you smell like fresh bread." Ryou nuzzled against Mariku's hair and sucked deep breaths through his nose to catch the warm bakery scent.

They sat on the sofa, watching an old Hitchcock film, _The Birds_ , while waiting for delivery food. It was their Friday tradition.

Mariku wrapped his arm around Ryou's shoulder and pulled them tight together. Ryou blushed, more interested in the warm, solid feel of Mariku's body than in a movie he'd already seen. Kissing was no longer a struggle between them, and Ryou felt relieved. He didn't like holding back affection of any kind, and it was good to be able to express himself without restrictions

He noticed other changes is Mariku as well. He no longer had nightmares, no longer talked about violence, and no longer referred to himself as an alter ego except in the past tense. Watching Mariku develop and accept his own humanity was like watching a time lapse film of a rose blooming.

And watching Mariku heal from a broken past that was only ever half his made Ryou feel like the same could happen to him. Thus, Ryou's nightmares - the Millennium Eye, Slifer, Zorc - diminished, and on the occasional night when Ryou did wake up sweat-dewed and panicked, it helped that a huge set of arms would always hold him while Mariku's voice hushed him back to sweeter dreams.

Their dinner arrived, and they finished the movie while they ate egg rolls and fried rice. Ryou's phone beeped, and as he checked it, he frowned.

"What is it?" Mariku asked.

"Um… nothing."

"Ryou Bakura, you're horrible at lying."

Ryou smiled and then sighed. "It was just Yugi wanting me to go to the movies with him and the gang next weekend, but don't worry, I'll think of a reason not to go."

Mariku stared at half an eaten egg roll. "You should go."

Ryou shook his head. "I see them every Monday."

Mariku smiled. "You see me every day."

Ryou finished his food and leaned against Mariku's shoulder. "I know."

"So you should go."

Ryou frowned. "I don't know. I really like our weekends together."

"It's just a few hours."

"It won't even be a scary movie. They'll probably pick an action movie."

"But you have to admit." Mariku shifted on the sofa so he could give teasing nips to the tender skin lining Ryou's throat. "If you leave in the afternoon, it'll be even better when you see me that evening."

Ryou sighed, closing his eyes and giving Mariku free reign of his neck, grateful that Mariku no longer ran away whenever they grew close. "To be honest, I'd probably just daydream about this - about you - the entire time."

"I like that idea." Mariku moved his mouth Ryou's ear, sucking on the lobe. "That I'm the one you think about even when you're with them."

"I always think about you," Ryou muttered, looking away in embarrassment.

Mariku ran his fingers across the streak of coral highlighting Ryou's cheek. "I could really use a nap right about now."

Ryou's heart sped up. _A nap_ never meant a nap. His voice was quiet, weak with eagerness. "Let's go."

Mariku snatched Ryou's hand and half-dragged him down the hall. They ended in front of their bed, tearing the clothes from their bodies and falling to the mattress. Ryou ground hard and fast into Mariku's hips, desperate for as much pressure as he could get against his cock.

"Ryou," Mariku growled, jerking his hips with the same desperate fervor. "Ryou, I need more."

Ryou grabbed the lube, pouring it onto their bellies to make their movements slippery. Mariku grit his teeth, his jaw locked in frustration, his moans high-pitched, almost pained.

"More!"

Ryou couldn't move any faster or harder. In his own frenzy, he already gave everything he had, wanting, wanting, _needing_ , to cum.

"I need more," Mariku demanded, begged.

Ryou shook his head. Not knowing what else to do, he grabbed Mariku and stroked him, hoping the direct stimulation would please his partner, but it didn't. Mariku whined at the touch, pushing Ryou away only to climb into Ryou's lap.

"More." His breath was hot on Ryou's face, the veins in his neck popped out from the strain he put on his jaw.

Ryou opened his mouth to ask Mariku what he meant when Mariku pressed himself against the tip of Ryou's cock. Ryou's nails dug into the scars on Mariku's back, and he screamed as the pressure overwhelmed him. He felt a giving way of flesh as he pressed past the initial tightness and into the warmth of Mariku's body.

Mariku grunted, wasting no time to adjust and rocking in Ryou's lap with deranged jerks of his hips.

"Ma-Mari-k-ku!" Ryou cried out, already trembling, already climbing. It had been so fast, so fast a switch between familiar touching and actual love-making that Ryou couldn't stop the swelling in his loins. He felt his shaft twitching, his nails sinking deeply into flesh, his orgasm consuming everything inside him. Ryou screamed. He screamed and screamed and happy tears filled his eyes, though he didn't shed them.

Mariku stayed in Ryou's lap. He rocked his body even after Ryou slipped out, and he stroked himself.

Ryou kissed Mariku's chest, fondling his pectorals, biceps, and shoulders, trying to help push Mariku to the edge, embarrassed that he'd finished so soon. "I'm sorry. You caught me off guard. I-I wasn't ready for that,"

"Shhhh. Shhhh. Just touch me, Ryou."

Ryou obeyed, sliding his fingers along Mariku's sides, around the curves of his hips, and up and down his thighs. Mariku's fingers found Ryou's hair and he tugged at it with his left hand, right hand still stroking. Ryou gave a soft cry when Mariku pulled his hair; he rather liked the feeling.

"Harder," Ryou whispered. Knowing Marik felt self-conscious about bedroom violence, Ryou usually tried to keep things gentle, but at the moment he couldn't help himself.

The muscles in Mariku's chest bulged as did his biceps. Mariku was an exotic, golden beast and Ryou wanted to feel the strength of him as he bucked and swayed in Ryou's lap. Mariku growled, adding tension to his grip on Ryou's hair. He leaned forward, biting and sucking at Ryou's throat just as he'd done after their first kiss. Ryou moaned, sinking his nails into Mariku's outer thighs He'd yearned for all of this - hair pulling, biting, Mariku thrashing in Ryou's lap, and sweat glazing their skin - he yearned for it, dreamed it, fantasized about it alone in the shower, but he feared he'd never have it.

Mariku muffled a scream, and Ryou felt sticky warmth spill onto his stomach. Mariku shrank close to Ryou's chest, and Ryou held him as tightly as his slender arms could manage.

"Don't run away," Ryou begged into his hair.

"I don't have to listen to you - you apologized again."

"Let's take a shower and then try again."

Mariku looked up. "Really?"

"I'd really like to."

Mariku tilted Ryou's head to the side, examining the bruise on Ryou's throat.

"I'll just wear a sweater," Ryou said, smiling. "It was worth it."

"You weren't afraid?" Mariku whispered.

"Were you?"

A thoughtful look crossed Mariku's face. "I'm still not sure if I know the difference, but it's been so long since I've killed anyone, I think I'm forgetting what that feels like."

"I hope you forget forever." Ryou combed his fingers through Mariku's hair. "Not because I'm afraid, but because I want your life to be better than violence."

"Hey creampuff?"

Ryou kissed his temple. "Yeah?"

"Didn't you mention something about a shower?"

"I don't think that's all I mentioned."

Mariku grinned. "Then let's hurry."

Ryou laughed. "You made me wait all this time and now _you're_ impatient?"

Mariku sprang off of the bed. "I never pretended I was as virtuous as you."

Ryou followed Mariku into the bathroom, admiring the way his back muscles defied the scars covering his skin by rising and sloping into beautiful sculptures that drew the eye away from the married flesh and demanded the eye notice Mariku as a whole instead of a part. Ryou made sure he stepped behind Mariku in the shower so he could kiss the contours of Mariku's back as his white fingers snuck across Mariku's firm, toned belly.

They only rinsed off in the shower, spending most of their time kissing this or that of each other. They waited until they were both hard again, and then turned off the water. Ryou dried himself. The tips of his hair were damp, but since he hadn't washed it, most of the white mess remained dry.

Mariku nipped Ryou's ear. "Ready?"

Ryou felt moths fluttering inside his stomach. It reminded him of the killer's room from _Silence of the Lambs._ He nodded, licking his lips. Mariku stared at Ryou, his eyes rich, purple velvet. He lifted Ryou into the air and carried him back to their bedroom.

Ryou brushed his nose across Mariku's cheek. "I used to hate when you picked me up."

"I know." Mariku set Ryou down on the mattress.

"I thought you did it because you thought I was weak."

Mariku shook his head no, settling down beside Ryou and kissing his swan-white shoulders. Ryou sighed, shutting his eyes a moment and enjoying the feel of Mariku's lips on his skin.

He grabbed Mariku's shoulders and flipped their bodies so that Ryou lay on top. "Yeah, I know that now."

He dragged his lips across Mariku's until the other male moaned. Ryou's mouth snaked down Mariku's throat and chest, his abs and pelvis, and his kissing trail ended at Mariku's entrance. His tongue moved in slow, broad arches. Mariku's hips twitched with each flick of Ryou's tongue. Small twinges at first, but as Ryou deepened each lick, Mariku's hips began to roll, trying to snatch as much feeling as he could. When light, airless moans accompanied the lulling of Mariku's hips, Ryou grabbed the bottle of lube still on the bed.

Mariku shook his head when Ryou started prepping him. "Skip that."

"But I don't want to make it hurt."

Mariku turned away. "I do. At least a little."

Ryou pursed his lips, thinking. He pulled his hand away and pushed into Mariku's body, sinking deep until they lay face-to-face. "Pull my hair again when you cum."

Mariku's cheeks flared and his eyes glinted like a steel blade in streetlight. He combed his fingers through the white gauze of Ryou's hair. He nodded, and Ryou could tell by his face that he was okay with the idea. Ryou closed his eyes and experimented with moving his hips.

Mariku grabbed his hips, forcing Ryou to push faster. He sighed and allowed Mariku to set their pace. Each thrust was rewarded with tight, hot flesh squeezing Ryou's cock. He struggled to breath, heartbeat rattling against his ribcage. They moved, on and on, in continuing ecstasy until Mariku was near-tearing Ryou's hair out and screaming in orgasm. Ryou blushed at the sounds, breathing with quick, irregular gasps. Mariku's arms fell limp around Ryou's neck and he held Ryou.

Ryou slowed down, trying to catch his breath, close but tired and sore from their movements. Ryou shifted, giving his knees greater purchase against the bedsheets. The rocking of his hips slowed. Mariku gasped with each thrust, squeezing his legs around Ryou's body.

Ryou held his breath and curled against Mariku's chest as he finished. His limbs shook and his breathing came in gasps. "Mariku."

He combed his fingers through Ryou's hair again. "Did I pull too hard?"

Ryou shook his head. "No. That was lovely." He smiled. "All of it. Every moment of it."

A shaky smile played on Mariku's face, as if he wasn't quite sure how Ryou survived the experience.

"Hey." Ryou traced the outline of Mariku's mouth. "You alright?"

He shook his head _no_. "Happy. I'm too happy."

Ryou smiled, brushing his nose along the curve of Mariku's temple. "There's no such thing as too happy."

"I... never thought... I-I'd get to be - th-this close to anyone." Mariku's words fragmented into tears. He brought his fists up to his eyes and tried to knead them away from his face.

Ryou grabbed him in a tight hug, petting his sun-tipped spears of hair, allowing the emotion to flood out.

"Of course," Ryou whispered. "Of course we're close. Mariku, I love you."

He clung to Ryou's shoulders, too emotional to echo the words, but Ryou didn't need words. He could tell how Mariku felt by the way his fingers dug into Ryou's skin, and by the heat of his tears. They held each other until they fell asleep, and when they woke up, Ryou made ramen for dinner and they ate it while watching _Paprika_.

The next morning, Ryou only half-awoke as Mariku kissed his face, whispering _I love you_ as he slipped out of the apartment to go to work. Ryou muttered nonsense in return and fell back asleep until his own alarm woke him. He'd missed several texts from Yugi, and had to use video games as a cover for why he'd stopped answering the phone. Although, Ryou couldn't help but giggle at the thought of texting back the truth.

_Sorry I ignored you, Yugi, but I was cuddling on the couch with Marik's darkside._

_Sorry I ignored you, Yugi, but I was taking the virginity of Marik's darkside._

_Sorry I ignored you, Yugi, but I'm in love with Mariku and I don't want to watch a stupid action movie this weekend when I could be at home eating cream puffs and watching_ Ichi.

_Ichi_ had a scene where a man suspended by hooks gets tortured. It wasn't the kind of film Ryou could enjoy with just anyone. Miike-level violence made his other friends squeamish. Only Mariku found the same joy in horror as Ryou did.

The fantasy was amusing; however, the resulting drama wouldn't be, so Ryou stuck with the gaming excuse.

_So are you going to meet us tomorrow?_

Ryou sighed through his nose.

_Yup! I'll meet you at the theatre._

_Great, see you at 2._

Time dragged by slow for Ryou. When he was finally free, he stopped by the store. He wanted to make something special for dinner, blushing as he thought of Mariku calling out the night before, and aching as he thought of the tears that followed.

When Ryou walked into the apartment he heard the shower running. Ryou smiled, sneaking into the kitchen to make dinner before Mariku finished washing. He had both plates on the table and was soaking the wok when Mariku walked into the kitchen wearing only boxers and drying his crazy hair with a towel.

"Smells good."

Ryou smiled, trying not to stare at the cut of Mariku's muscles or the way they moved as he walked. "Extra spicy."

"Are you?" Mariku asked with the corner of his mouth raised in a crooked smirk.

Ryou felt the fire on his cheeks. He sat down in front of the stir fry. "Find out."

Mariku's smirk turned into a large, greedy smile. He sat down, started eating, but kept a hungry gaze on Ryou the entire time. The look made shivers crawl across Ryou's skin. He fought to swallow each bite, suddenly not hungry for spicy beef and thai chilis.

"It's good."

"Thank you," Ryou muttered as if out of breath.

They tried to watch TV, but their arms kept brushing together, sending jolts down Ryou's stomach. He squirmed for a few minutes, trying to focus on the commercial of a guy tossing noodles into a pot.

Ryou jumped to his feet, grabbing Mariku's arm and pulling him to his feet. "Bedroom. Right now."

"Read my fucking mind."

They raced to their bedroom, stripping off their own clothes in a rush and then grabbing each other at once. Ryou pushed Mariku towards their bed, but they somehow missed their mark and ended up on the floor next to the bed. Mariku straddled Ryou's waist and neither of them bothered pushing themselves up to the bed.

Ryou reached up and behind him, catching the nightstand drawer with his fingers and dragging it open, but he couldn't reach the bottle of lube inside. Mariku lunged forward, grabbed the bottle, and started to pour the cold liquid on Ryou's erection. He spent a few moments teasing Ryou, bobbing up and down against Ryou's head before plunging down his shaft and calling out. Mariku's moan made everything tighten from Ryou's stomach to his balls.

Ryou lay limp and relaxed on the carpet, watching Mariku bounce on top of him. Mariku's every movement was quick, desperate, and greedy. The way he stroked himself, the way his lion's mane of hair whipped to and fro from his rocking, the way his pectorals tightened and the veins in his neck swelled - every detail about Mariku was expression shaped into flesh. Ryou closed his eyes in an attempt to calm his own lust or he'd finish too soon again.

Then Mariku was grabbing Ryou by the hair, pulling him into a sitting position. He stayed in Ryou's lap, bouncing a little slower in order to bite Ryou's neck, his nails scoring down Ryou's shoulder.

A timid growl shook Ryou's throat. The teeth and nails against his skin made Ryou feel an odd sort of _possessiveness_ for Mariku. Ryou slapped the hand Mariku used to stroke himself away so that _he_ could stroke Mariku instead. Mariku gave his own growl, deep and trembling against the skin of Ryou's neck. Mariku used the other hand to dig into Ryou's lower back, sending more delightful, stinging shivers down Ryou's spine.

Ryou felt Mariku twitch against his palm and knew he was on the edge of climax, so Ryou stopped holding back, focusing on the heat and pressure engulfing his own erection and climaxing seconds before Mariku.

When all the eager energy poured from their bodies they sat together like two marionettes with their strings knotted together and stared at each other with stupid expressions on their faces. Mariku's eyes flicked over to Ryou's shoulder, burning with scratches.

"Don't you dare apologize," Ryou whispered, his voice harsh from heavy breathing.

Mariku grinned. "You're one to talk."

Ryou rested his forehead against Mariku's chest. "Well? You never let me get away with it, when I do apologize."

They sat in silence, listening to their breathing.

"I'm okay," Mariku whispered, as if he knew how much Ryou wanted to hear the words.

"Really?"

"Yeah. It's okay. I think... I'm starting to figure out the difference."

"It's okay... if we need to slow down again."

Mariku grabbed Ryou's chin and lifted up his head, kissing him. Ryou closed his eyes, exhaling through his nose and concentrating on the feel of his lips against Mariku's. Mariku traced his fingers up Ryou's cheekbones, slipping them into Ryou's long hair. "Don't slow down," his voice barely reached Ryou's ear, "and don't hold back. I finally feel human enough to have..." He stared in Ryou's maroon eyes. "All the things I never knew I wanted for myself." He gave Ryou a bashful smile, pressing his lips one last time to Ryou's. "Instead of acting out Marik's desires... I finally have my own."


End file.
